crud_donor (crud_donor) wrote in _letterstoyou_,

  • Music:
Dear You,

Writing this would be perfectly easy and perfectly normal if I were the type of girl to go all gushy goo-goo over guys. As it stands, I am not. I am sarcastic, I am wry, I am witty, I am laissez-faire, I am independent, and most of all, I have never, ever, ever ever let a guy get the better of me.

I've had crushes before, I've come close to being a bunch of bubbly bumbling boy-crazy transparent gunk at the sight of some guys, but when I feel like I'm coming too close to actually liking, all I have to do is become friends with him and I realize what an annoying stupid (yet goofily fun) guy he actually can be. He is demystified, and I am free.

With you? With you, it is different. It would be so easy if I just liked you for your looks, but I don't. I liked you for your personality first and foremost. You're not the kind of guy a girl falls for. You're not emo or skater or gangster or athletic or preppie or punk or any of the things my stupid peers seem to look for in a guy. You're... well, you're YOU. You like classical music, and politics, and bunnies, and children's fiction, and the color brown. You don't cut your wrists. You hate sports. You've never had a girlfriend because despite the front you put up, everyone knows you're way too shy.

You defy stereotypes and conventions and aren't afraid to show it and suffer for it. Most girls can't see you for who you are, and they think you're weird for it. Most people just can't understand that you march to the beat of your own... percussion section.

So, I mean, I can't stop LIKING you. I'll try, because while I sometimes get the feeling you might like me back, I'm probably wrong and you probably don't. I'll try to stop liking you. You know what would make this so much easier? If you suddenly decided you were gay. The first time I met you, I turned to your friends and asked, "I know this sounds awkward, but is he.. gay?" and they laughed and said, "GOD, no! He's just... him." I'm no homophobic, but you can see why my anxieties lay where they do.

So, I'm sorry if I can't stop liking you. I'm working on it, I'm trying to stop my heart from beating faster every time you smile in my direction.

I will try. And it will be a little difficult, considering you're, well, you. But I am working on it.

-your pathetic new friend

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