If there’s one thing I could take back, that would be giving you the words I could write. If there’s one thing I could say, that would be all about you. If there’s one thing I could regret, that would be letting someone else have you when I had the chance to make you mine.
It has been one hell of a heartache to keep my feelings written, instead of telling you. As a writer I should know how to express myself to you but I don’t know why I’m wordless every time we talk. You know me as someone who keeps on talking nonstop but you should realize I do that to avoid myself from confessing that I like you.
Yes, I like you. I liked you from the moment we started talking. I liked you from the moment I slowly discovered who you are. I wish I could tell you how much of a treasure you are even when you see yourself worthless and unbecoming. You are more than what you think. You are so much more than what you show. I know I’ve only known you for less than five years but I feel like I’ve known you a lifetime ago. My feeling is one-sided, I know, but I’m tired of hiding everything worth sharing.
I know there’s no chance we can be together. We can only be friends. I could only give you pieces of advice. I could only offer you comfort. I could never love you the way you deserve to be loved. I could never make you happy the way she could.
This new year, if there’s one thing I could wish it would be to be finally free of you.
I’m tired. I’m tired of loving you. I’m tired of writing words that only talk about you. I’m tired of giving you my words, my heart. And if you ever read this some time, I hope you realize who you are. I hope you realize I wrote about you a little too often. I hope you realize that the girl who likes breaking rules included you along the lines she wrote in her poetry. But by the time you do, it will be too late. Your heart already belongs to someone else. And I will be ready to stop writing about you.
But the more I write this letter, the more I realize some things. I realized that I’ve already learned to deal with the pain of loving someone who can’t return the feelings and that my feelings for you might stay for a very long time, perhaps until I stop writing. And that means, forever.
Yes, I like you. And you should have known.