Dear your name here,
The way we met was adorable. We both frequent a similar shop and your friend slipped your number on my table while I was up at the bar. The note contained a cute saying I’ll keep between us, that it was your birthday and your number. I was stuck in, studying, all night. The note definitely made my night yet gave me a slight ache due to the permanent smile on my face. I sent you a ‘happiest of birthdays’ and an apology for not making it out.
Days went by and I wondered who you were – the fact was that you could have been sitting next to me and I wouldn’t have known. A week later, at the same shop, you introduced yourself and told me we were going for a drink – I usually like being in charge but this time I didn’t mind. I was still sort of new to the South, but I held my own in our religious/political debate over a couple microbrews. You picked up the tab, which surprised me, and it was official – I owed you another drink.
Over time and many exchanged drinks, our relationship has grown to be one of my favorites, the highlights too frequent and detailed to fit in a letter. We’re two peas in a pod. If we were items for purchase you could buy us from the same store – maybe, even, the same isle. On Amazon, we’d be recommended for purchasing together; though, your reviews might be better than mine.
I’ve been seeing a lot more of you lately and that makes me really happy. We’re great friends and since you left school I really haven’t been able to see you as much as I’d like. Tonight we had another adorable moment. We sat on my awful couch half watching some terrible television and half talking about books, politics and feminism. I love our smart conversations. A couple empty beer bottles sat on the coffee table in front of us and a couple, half full, sat in our hands. Earlier we agreed we wished things were more logical and you didn’t forget when you said “I want to try kissing you, but I don’t want things to be weird.”
I think that moment has been already been filed into the ESPN Top Ten replays of my life. We both cracked up. Thankfully, you knew I was laughing with you and not at you; at least, I’m pretty sure you did. For a boy of many words, someone who always has something to say, I was particularly speechless.
Now that the labels are partially torn off both of our beers and you’ve left- I am sorry for not kissing you. I mean, I love you and I love kissing but I like and respect you enough not to do that indecisively. The truth is I’ve really only thought of you as a friend and you caught me off guard. I think the fact that I’ve really only thought of you as a friend means something, but I guess you never know. It’s hard for me to express how I feel about this because I want to be as clear and honest as possible but I don’t want to say no and I would never want to hurt your feelings.
I wish I could have responded differently and meant it. I think, no matter how ‘right’ my response was there’s still something vaguely insulting about it. You are lovely and I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment with you I didn’t enjoy. Logically it makes sense, but romanticism isn’t a business plan. I’m abandoning my always having something to say for being honest, real and maybe even quite for once – speechless.