To Mr. Ever After:

Dear Pants Guy,
You don't exist.

Lately, I've been talking about literature- fiction to be more specific. The stories of love, adventure, and heroism that swirl around my head and sweep me into a fog of daydreams.

I want to believe that someday I'll get swept into an adventure with you, and end up falling in love while we save the world. I want to believe that there is magic in life. I want to believe in you.
But how can you possibly exist? There is no magic, there is no plotline.
Everyone of my decisions, no matter how small, changes my story- it's not written, but fleeting, uncatchable. I know that reason and logic crush the bounds of imagination as reality. The dreams that people put on paper are just that: dreams.

But, still. There's something to the idea that one day, just as in every story, there is a point where the hero or heroine is faced with the decision to leave everything behind, all that they've ever known, and make that journey into the unknown. It's this thought, this daydream that gets me through somedays. I think of you, and imagine what impossible happenings and adventures we would share. You wouldn't be perfect, no true Hero is, but we would grow during our journey- through all of the obstacles, while fighting for our very lives, we would begin to understand eachother. A profound change would occur, and we would realize that we'd finally found what we were looking for.
I think I even know you- you're stubborn tenacity, quick grin, and quick temper for the wrongs in your world. Of course, there's that something about you: that one factor that gleams in every Hero- that part of you that pushes on, and accomplishes the impossible when everyone wrote you off. There's that deep goodness inside of you that everyone recognizes- they know you will always end up fighting for good. Despite all of your hard exterior, there's a part of you that needs love, that does believe in the strength of it. Together, we'll find it.

Who wouldn't want to believe in it? Hasn't society always had this ideal- this image of you? Our "knights in shining armor" our Robin Hoods and Supermans, our unlikely heroes and dashing prince charmings. Sure, I could admit to myself that maybe you don't actually exist beyond the realms of my imagination, but isn't that the only thing we need? It's always trust, beliefs, and a bit of luck that see us to the end of the stories.

I so want to melt into one of these stories- to find you, to fight for you and with you. There are some days when my normal life gets so heavy- so thick that it feels like I can't get out of my car. And so I sit, in the parking lot- in the rain, and close my eyes- wishing hard that somehow--somehow, I will get out of the car and into your story. Our story.

My mother always says, that when the time is right, I'll find someone that fits. To steal a line from Queen, I'll find 'Somebody to love'. I think right now, I just don't want to- I'm still holding out for you, at least a little while longer. Still waiting to fall into our story.
I would leave it all behind for you.


Peace, Love, and All That Other Jazz-- Sign me,
Flipping the pages that fill my head.

To Mr. Always Almost:

Dear Pants Guy,
I owe you an explanation.

I guess you could say, this letter has been a long time coming, and also another in a series of "sorry"s. Actually, I'm not sure sorry would quite cover the way I treated you.

We've always had that thing, I'm not sure what to call it- a connection? a tragic attraction? I say tragic because it always ends badly. There have been so many "almost"s. I'm not sure why you're always ready to talk to me after the previous 'almost'. The pattern is so much the same as a moth to a flame, whenever you get close I keep you warm until I burn you.

You think I'm a good person- but why? all I've ever done was piss you off because of my actions. You swear I've never broken your heart- "how could you?" you say, "We've never even dated." You're right, of course, we've never been official. I've never been strong enough to handle it; I've never been able to put aside what others think of 'us', even if they really have no idea who you are.
I'm scared of something serious. I'm scared to get in too deep; I'm scared to fall in love with you. I'm scared that if I did it would mean forever, and I don't know how to even think about 'forever'. I'm scared that you'll change your life for me, that you'll give up what you want to be with me; and then I will end up messing it all up.

I realize how self-centered this all is; but the thing is: all we can ever truly understand is our thoughts and our feelings. I can't imagine what you think- all I have is what I know to be true. My own truths.
To be completely frank, I'm so tired of hurting you-- because regardless of whether or not you 'loved' me-- it hurts. I'm sorry. Especially now; see, before you never made it particularly simple for us to be together. But something was different about the last time we saw each other. I guess maybe I was even more grown up (ahem, mature), but it almost seemed like we were finally at similar places in our lives , almost on the same page. I guess I fell off the page. It wasn't fair of me at all to let you think something so different than what I was thinking- I let myself run away. It wasn't fair to spend that whole day with you... but I honestly didn't want to leave that night.
I couldn't think.

To make things infinitely worse, I started a relationship with someone else. I wish I could convince you that I never intended for that to happen. Looking back, I realize just how horrible this was- what kind of a person am I? that I could not only hurt you, but in the process I ended up hurting that someone else as well- all because I didn't think. But I've already written that apology. This one is about you, and there are no excuses for letting myself be pushed into a relationship-- I'm stronger than that. It could have been different.

It's funny though, that every time we've gotten close, the same thing happens - why do you do it? why give me another chance? and another? Maybe this was the last time, and maybe you've finally made a clean break. Sometimes you have to cut all contact to get over it. That I understand well.
I guess I can't help but wonder if you still think of me. Or have you found a way to completely remove me from your thoughts. Because if you have, I'd really love to know how... the leftover "what-if"s are killer.

Peace, Love, and All That Other Jazz-- Sign Me,
Tragically Repetitive and Regretting It.

To Mr. Oblivious (Again):

Dear Pants Guy,
I'm Getting Over it [you].

I said this would take more than one letter, because even though I get other people wrong 96.8% of the time, I get myself right 98.9% of the time.
I think the reason I'm having such a hard time letting it go, is because I'm so sure that it[we] will never happen.
The logic behind this seemingly twisted statement is simply this: I'm scared to have anything work out. I create these situations of impossibility to protect myself. I've talked before about never falling in love- or even those times when I didn't believe it. I'm so insanely scared to let myself find anything amazing that I do things that I know won't work out, mostly in three predictable scenarios:

Scenario #1: I date someone I'm not that into.
Scenario #2: I crush on someone that will never return those feelings, OR:
Scenario #3: (the worst, and unfortunately most common scenario) I reciprocate feelings that are genuine and proceed to completely back off before the situation turns into something real.
I think the clinical term for it is: Commitment Phob. [clearly not a clinical term...]

I guess that's where you come in: You're Scenario #2. Run-of-the-mill unrequited love (or something similar) Only, you don't know about it... God, that's creepier when you put it into words.
The only problem with you, is that I know I could get over this- I think we'd even be great as friends, but there is a buffer time period- when the interest has to go away, and I can properly transfer that interest onto the next poor soul and then we can be friends. Only, you keep on interrupting that buffer period.
I'm not socially handicapped. I know when someone doesn't return your feelings, you get over it-- move on, and I honestly have no intentions of being "That sketch girl that's been stalking you forever". The only problem is that I was confused in the beginning-- I thought you were maybe a little bit interested; if I was mistaken, I wish that you could have given me a hint- instead of just dropping off the face of the earth. A reason would have been nice, too; but I do know that that's maybe asking a bit too much. While I'm being honest, I'm glad that you even talked to me- because you're a great guy. But I guess we don't know each other well enough, because I don't understand your actions. Maybe you want to just be friends, and you think I'll get too attached or get the wrong idea. I guess you just don't know me- because, as history often repeats itself, I would most likely: be a little attached at first, never do anything about it, and then move on healthily in my normal fashion. Here's where we bring it back to the interrupted part: My personality is such that if you present me with a challenge, I'll do everything I can to hit the bar, win the race, etc. You did this- not intentionally, I hope, but you did. I think that it's one of those "want what you can't have challenges" now.
It's safe though- I can't get hurt. All because I honestly believe it would never work out... my heart is truly in a stainless steel cage... With this guy as it's own personal body guard.

I wonder if that would make you feel any better about talking to me. I could ask you the next time you break my buffer period, but chances are you wouldn't know what the hell I was talking about. In fact, I'm 73.4% sure that I don't know what I'm talking about. I guess I just need to get this out, because I don't need to actually send you this letter- I don't even need you to know it exists. In fact, I would honestly die if you did know about it-- then I really would look like "The creeper who is secretly obsessed with you". I'm not. I just have a system- an internal pattern that makes me act like a complete idiot. Please, make this easy on me: Stop breaking the pattern. It works 100% of the time. Although, that would mean I'm lousy at math...

Peace, Love, and All That Other Jazz-- Sign Me,
Actually getting over it- albeit not fast enough...