Unsent Letters To Three Women I Love, So Deeply

To my friend, for always and ever:

You are my friend. Our friendship is in its infancy, but the last few months I’ve been learning about you, writing down your favorite anything and keeping track of your idiosyncrasies. I’ve come love you, and I imagine that I always will. You are pessimistic about relationships in general, but I think our friendship might change your mind; I hope, at least. I hope someday you’ll look back to these times, remember all the texts and vaguely remember a few phone calls. I know I’ll remember all these moments for as long as I live.

You find me bearable as a friend most days, and I find you a beautiful, strong and vibrant woman. You playfully text me “rude” when I call you on your crap, or tell you something you consider to be awkward. The latter seems to be the most frequent. I always try to flirt with you by using the same method, but you always find a hole in my logic. You never let me in further than you’re allowed to be with me. I imagine that’s where you find yourself most comfortable with me. If you ever wonder, even though I jokingly tell you at times, if I care about you as more than just a friend you are right. I am rushed and detained with a melancholy, but I have a fantastic friendship with you. I wish I could say, “I wouldn’t change our friendship for the world.” I would be lying to you. I say this because in my deepest fantasies we are perfect for one another. I wish to tell you the words that would sweep you off your feet, but these words I seek never find my lips or fingertips in time to make an impact. You are my friend, and I am in love with you.

To the vibrant woman by which I am friend-zoned:

I love you. I will always be trapped in my ideas about if we could be more than “just friends.” The distance that you claim is the deciding factor as to why I’m friend-zoned isn’t a picture-perfect paradise for me either. I am as content as I can be with the official and titled friendship you have given me. I am grateful that you even continually let me have a part in your life, and let yourself be a part of mine. I’ll never be able to tell you directly how much more I see for us, but I can’t help it. After the many months of texting you, the one and only time I heard your voice you had me at your first and last “hello?” Your few spoken words echo in my mind as if I’ve heard them everyday for years.

I text you any time I have a vivid and romantic dream involving us, and you always, logically, find a few details that are obviously farfetched. I agree with your assessment of the small details my mind has somehow intertwined, but it’s all I have when it comes to you. Those miniscule details that you so easily dismiss will be all and everything I have with you. In reality, I have to live my life logistically and tactfully around your life, your dreams and your aspirations. My dreams and aspirations involve you. Your dreams, however, involve a tall, dark, handsome, bearded and dark beer-drinking pre-medical student that has dreams of Paris like you. I have dreams of Paris, sometimes, and the only person I can recognize is you. I am your friend-zoned friend. I will always dream of you and you will always dream of someone that isn’t me. I am in love with you.

To the girl I’ll never even meet:

We are complete strangers, and we will never be introduced. I fear that we will never meet each other, and we’ll never know what could become between us. I’ve never met you, but I know you are there. I chase you in my dreams, and I catch glimpses of your warm, beautiful face in passing stranger’s faces. I recognize you every time, yet you disappear before I can double take. You always find a way to tease my heart and emotions when you reveal yourself for mere seconds. I will never see your face for more than a few seconds in my peripherals at a time, but I dream of the day when you walk up to me and let me see your face. I imagine you won’t say a word; you’ll smile as if we are old friends and disappear into the crowd as you always do. You always find your way back to me somehow, but only a few seconds at a time. If my life was a Nicholas Sparks book, I would finally meet you, and you would love me even before you knew my name. However, my life isn’t a book. My life is a long terrifying journey without you, and one day I’ll see your face in a stranger’s face one last time only to never see you again. I will remember you everyday and be left to wonder where you went. I will haunt myself with questions. “Did she find someone to love her?” “Did she give up on me?” “Did she perish in the very moment she tried to meet me?” I will depress my mind trying to find a reasonable answer as to why you never came back for me. I will always try to be optimistic and try to convince myself that you found someone better. I will hope that you found someone to take you to Paris, who wakes you up every morning with a smile and who never misses a moment to steal a kiss only to return it.

I will miss your blue eyes meeting mine, and your blonde locks dancing in the breeze. I won’t cry because our moments are over. Instead, I will smile because they happened. I will always be in love with you, but I will never even know your sweet name. I will never know the sound of your voice perking my ears and sending chills down my spine. I will live my life without you, but I will never have you. I love you.

To my friend, the vibrant woman and the girl I’ll never meet:

The three of you are one in the same. You are the same woman. You are my friend, the vibrant woman, and the girl I will never truly know. I will always sit idly by on the sidelines of love. I will watch you get your heart broken, and I’ll finally see when you find true love. I will never be far from you, but I will always be just out of reach. You will see me now and again smiling from afar. I will love you for always and ever, but you’ll never love me back. You’ll achieve your dreams and complete your aspirations and goals. I will be proud of you, all the while the years pass me by. Love might not ever find me, and all that I will hope for is that, occasionally, you think of me. I will hope you remember the texts, my silly dreams about us and I hope you’ll wonder how I am and where I might be.

If you ever wonder, for one second, if we could have ever been anything more than just friends, I want you to know one thing. I want you to know that somewhere in this world, in that very moment when that thought flashes across your mind, that I will be smiling and remembering your blue eyes and blonde hair. TC mark

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