Monday, March 31, 2008

I should have deleted this 10 years ago.

How long has it been seen we first met? More than a decade? I know I'm too young to be remembering these things. You don't know these things. Of course. I never told you anything. Not even in that book. What was I to do? Was I supposed to? Everyone was going to read it, and I have not been known to be so open. So I wrote this and I wrote that. I used the word "swell" to describe something that meant much more to me. Sure I was young and I didn't know any better or didn't feel anything else. But for better or for worse, I really did feel those things. Or maybe I'm putting her on a pedestal. Others have told me I tend to do that. So let me try to change that as I type this. I can speak to you now that we're on the floor. You don't have to stay here long. Just long enough so that your last memory of me isn't polite conversations and the top right corner of a page in that book. I'm doing this in hopes of not shaking whenever I hear your name. It's not even your name. You don't own it. I'm doing this so that I don't have to keep writing these things. I thought I was done. There's a paper ball somewhere with writing that should have been the last. Yet I find myself writing again. This will have to be the last. It has to.

I hope you know how I felt about you then. I'm not going to say it now. That was over ten years ago. Normal people have moved on. I wish I could be clearer. You will always be that beautiful girl. Not Swell. Even if we aren't friends (were we ever?), you will still mean something to me after another 10 years. For my sake, I hope you won't, but the last ten years has left a precedent.

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