3.24.12

she's writing a love letter,

she says,

because she was given one and now

she will respond.

and i wonder

if you would respond.

i wonder

what i would write

in a love letter to you.

really, i've already written

so many,

but they were all written for me.

how would a love letter for you be

any different?

besides, obviously, that it's

for you.

i'd be less honest.

i'd be less eloquent,

not that i am in anything i write,

but to you, i would easily double

the obscure references,

the not-quite-lies,

the hiding.

because you know me,

so well,

and you can see through my lies.

in a letter to you,

i would lie.

i would tell you,

yes, i miss you,

but i don't love you.

i've never loved you.

because it's better that we didn't

kiss that night.

it's better that we don't

get together.

it's better that i don't

fuck everything up,

and ruin everything i have right now,

which isn't very much,

but it's better than the nothing i'd have

if i talked to you.

in a love letter to you,

i'd try to ignore

your girlfriend.

because i envy her

so much

more than i should.

i've always envied your girlfriends,

past and present,

because even though i know

i could never be one of them,

and they're the proof

that you're straight.

they have you,

and i imagine you telling them

how beautiful they are,

telling them you love them.

kissing them.

and my stomach twists from the thought

of you kissing some girl.

i hate this,

and i hate that i can never do anything

about it.

i love you,

and in a love letter to you,

i'd tell you how much you mean to me.

i'd be more honest

than i am with myself.

i'd stop lying,

stop hiding,

stop pretending.

and i'd say,

"i'm sorry."

because i am.