The Letters that I'll Never Send #1

I have to say I'm not the best at expressing feelings. I have to go through some kind of media, and writing letters is one. Here I'd start another label called The Letters that I'll Never Send, the title says it all. Just in case someone ever bumped in here and read, it wouldnt hurt to guess a little. And here's the first entry:

The Letters that I'll Never Send #1

Let's not exaggerate and let me be blatantly honest to you right now.

When you left I thought that was it. That was the end. No more anything I could wish would be real. You weren't there, you were out of my life. You'd never imagine how miserable I felt about myself. I'd lock myself in my room, looking through all the pictures and everything that reminded me of you. I thought to myself, how could I love again if it wasn't you?

Days after you left, boy was I so stupid. I mourned, I saw you from the distance and all I could think of was that your smiles were never addressed to me anymore. Your scent that I adored, your short haircut I could never get enough to touch at the end of the day, your hand when it held mine. How could it be right if it was all wrong?

But you know how time magically works like those anti-infection ointments. It hurt like hell, yet I recovered. Our moments were gone, they left through the back door I never knew existed. Our pictures didn't mean anything anymore. Memories, they change as time goes by. In fact, your smiles I saw from far away are the ugliest I've seen. Your haircut is stupid, and your hand doesn't seem manly. I can only think of your bad side and I know this isn't right either. 

It's been so many days after you left. Instead of be cool and all yet I'm here, writing this letter I've never sent. You're the first, the shamely-admitted inspiration. I'm not sure why. Maybe because your ugly smiles, your stupid haircut, and your feminine hands don't mean a thing like if it was pretty or cool or manly. They all don't mean anything anymore. The only thing that makes sense is that whatever kind of history there was in my life, you were part of it. I just think that it's nice, somehow necessary, to look back to learn the mistakes like all the clich├ęs are about. I learned a lot today. 

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