annieblev

United States

Wannabe poet who should probably stick to realistic fiction. Sum 41 trash.

Like Letters, Not Love Letters (A Fictional Letter)

July 16, 2016

  Like Letters, Not Love Letters: A fictional letter from a wise-beyond-her-years 7th grader to her crush. 


Dear Salem,
I really hope you find this letter someday. Not today, not tomorrow. Someday, preferably 30 years from now when I have moved on and you’re married to some supermodel who’s beauty actually matches yours. I really hope you find this letter and laugh at me because there is nothing funnier than a 12 year old girl professing her love for boy who is way out of her league. Most love letters (or in my case, like letters. We are way too young to be in love.) start with the cliche sentence describing what happened when the two lovebirds met. For most, there was some spark. Maybe they had undeniable chemistry from the start. Maybe they hit it off right away, but that wasn’t us. I don’t think we have ever actually talked in person. There was that time we were both in the nurse’s office, but I don’t think we actually talked. And plus, I was having a really bad hair day, so we are going to forget that day. Of course I thought you were cute. All boys with brown hair and brown eyes are. But, I didn’t have a crush on you. I didn’t know a thing about you. I didn’t think that would ever change. Then you texted me and of course, that all changed. I learned so much about you and with every word you texted I found myself falling deeper in like with you. You learned so much about me and you listened to me, even when I talked about some pretty creepy stuff. Sorry about that. I don’t know how to talk to cute boys, so I guess I just ended up talking about demons. Oops. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care when I asked you a billion political questions just to make sure you weren’t a flesh eating lizard/republican. And you aren’t, so that’s good.
For the record Salem, I don’t want to date you. But you make me so happy. I hope you feel the same way about me, even though you probably don’t. You probably think I'm some freak who wants tattoos and believes in the afterlife and demons, which I am. You probably think I try too hard, which I do. You probably think I have have a crush on you. Which I do.
My thoughts are swirling around my head like the soft serve ice cream I want to share you. That was so cheesy and cliche; I’m so sorry. I don’t really know what I’m trying to accomplish here. All I know is, to quote Elvis, I can’t help falling in love with you. Or at least in like with you. Again, we are too young to know what we want.
All I ask is that you don’t forget me. I hope you can do that. I know I won’t forget you.

Like,

Bea
P.S. Did you see what I did with the like instead of love? Also, I have a new joke for you. It’s just as corny as the last one!
 

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