My psychiatrist told me that I should write how I feel. So here I am. Feeling uncomfortable as fuck and hating this already. I don't like talking about my feelings. I don't like talking period. I can't trust anyone to keep a secret. I told my only friend that I had feelings for someone, and what did he do? He fucked her! That son of a bitch betrayed me! So I'm sorry if I find it hard to talk to anyone about my fucking feelings.
The person I had feelings for, the reason why I'm writing this shitty letter, was…Is Stacy Codwell. Unfortunately for me, she's the most popular girl at school. So it's hard to even talk to her. Once I mustered up the courage to walk up beside her and say hi…But she didn't even look at me. She just kept walking. Like I wasn't there. I didn't blame her then and I don't blame her now. If she was seen talking to me that would have ruined her reputation. One time we were partnered together for a History project, but again, she just sat there. Not talking to me. She did the whole thing herself. We got an A. But I'm sure she fucked the teacher. She's not the smartest cookie. I know what you're thinking. "Why would you love such a whore?" Truth is…I don't know. It's just this feeling I have in my chest. In my mind. That I want to be with her. Forever. Don't you fucking judge me! There are woman who get their ass beat by their husbands all the fucking time and they stay because they "Love him." I'm not a dumbass. If I was with her and she did cheat on me then I would break up with her. But what she's doing now isn't cheating. I don't like it, but it's not cheating. So I can't be mad. She's doing nothing wrong.
Stacy doesn't look like your usually popular high school girl. She has long red hair that goes down to her waist, deep green eyes, and skin as pale and soft as snow. She's not the usual tan, blonde and blue eyed slut. She's not a cheerleader, thank god. I hate cheerleaders with a fiery passion. Them and Volvos. Yes, the car. I don't know why, I just do. I'm glad Stacy doesn't have a Volvo. Anyway, Stacy isn't perfect. But she's different. And that's what I love about her.
There are few things in life that I will regret, and not telling Stacy how much I love her is one of those things. I had hoped that one day I would gain the courage to tell her how I felt, but I knew that wouldn't have happened as long as she was Miss Popular.
I think that's enough for now. Surprisingly this did help. I feel relieved to have said all of this. But that doesn't change my decision. I'm not sorry for what I'm about to do. It's the only way for me to feel free of this pain. I'm not strong enough to deal with it.
Goodbye everyone. Goodbye family. Goodbye Stacy Codwell. Goodbye to my pathetic life.
The person who wrote this was Tylor Johnson. He was only fourteen. His family was grief stricken, but they quickly got over the loss of their only son. Stacy Codwell never received his letter. She has no idea how Tylor felt.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Thanks to MyWeirdWorld for BETAing.