Dear John SERIES

Dear John: my version. Just Because… PART1

Just because it’s Valentine’s Day that I say these words.

Dear John,

Or not.

This is not meant for you to read. Nor is it for others to. It’s merely for my silently screaming heart that is dying to vent. But if you happen to come across this note, and decide to read it, I just want you to know that I don’t want to cause a fire. So please, spare me the hot seat. And excuse me for makin’ myself sound like a fool, a drama queen.

I don’t know how you think of me now. You used to wonder. It’s my turn. Now I wonder. But the word “serious” has never been the same again. It suddenly became a word that I'm now cautious about. Not because it’s wrong. Because it isn’t. But because there’s something in the way it made and makes things so complicated. I guess you knew me at a time when I needed security. Call it wrong timing, I don’t know. It’s weird that it had to be with you. I say I was scared. I suppose you were too. You said you liked me a lot. I liked you too. A lot. You were awful! So not my type. And insensitive. But you were wonderful. So my type. And sweet. You and I. Ironic. I loved how we used to work things out. How you teased me with you, and vice versa. How we laughed and talked about anything. How we were. We were both open-minded. Before the word “serious” came up. And the words “don’t talk to me for a while” made such a difference. Then I wished you were more spontaneous. I wished you were the type who’d call me and ask me out just like that. Or the type who’d call in the middle of the night just to hear my voice. Or take a hint when I want to see you. I wished a lot. I wished you were You. I guess I made the wrong move, pouring my heart out to you just like that. I’m not that type. I’m supposed to be that passive one. It was different with you. It was all different. I’m not all over you. I’m not head over heels for you. I love you but I’m not in love with you. Not yet. Whatever. And if you courted me, I wouldn’t have said yes. But I did like you. Sometimes I pretend that I don’t. Like now. Ugh. I’m talking nonsense now. It’s funny how I don’t go out with the other guys who ask, but I did and would with you. It’s funny how I don’t miss the other guys who miss me, but I did and do miss you. It’s funny how you don’t miss me and I’m okay with it. It’s funny that I hate that you are so different. I hate that I can’t resist you. It wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You dreamt of me in a car and you liked what you saw. You dreamt of me as a vampire you couldn’t dare to kill. We were supposed to just be. Just be. We were. Then I messed up. I pushed you away. Subconsciously. Or consciously. But that’s how I am. That’s me. I know it’s wrong. It’s a flaw. I push people away. Just like that. No explanation. And that’s how it all began to end. I told you to stop texting/talking to me for a while. I was cold for a time. I disconnected with you. I pushed you away. Not that I didn’t want you. Truth is, I was scared that I’d get attached. Another flaw. Scared. A coward. Then when I thought things over and wanted you to stay, I was too late. You changed. I changed. We changed. Everything changed. We had nothing much to talk about. It was, as you said, dry. When you told me to consider you as lost, and reasoned that I deserve someone better, I knew you were right. And I knew you were wrong. It had everything to do with how we handled it. How I handled it. How I was off. How I was scared. How you were scared. How we were in denial. How I made things complicated. How we never got to go out often. How I came across. How we kept holding back. How we hesitated. How I hesitated without you noticing. I tried to save us. I tried to compromise. I failed. Tried. Failed. Tried. Failed. This time, I’m doin’ it the way I used to. Letting it go. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Just let it go. So yeah, I lost. But I found. I’m letting you go.

I remember the first time I talked to you. Years ago. I asked the silliest question. I remember the first time I liked you. Years ago. I kept it a secret. I remember the first time in a long time I saw you. At a concert. I remember the first time we dated. I remember the first time we held hands. I remember the first time we kissed. I remember the first time we heard nothing but silence and heartbeat. I remember the first time you looked into my eyes with such passion. I remember the first time you told me you liked me. On a bridge under a starlit sky. Now the bridge has fallen, and the stars refuse to shine.

I’ve no regrets. I learn. That undeniably weird and indefinable connection is still here. The sound of your handsome voice still serenades me. The electric feel still lingers. But we were slow dancing in a burning room. I don’t want to lose you, so I’m letting you go.

But again, just because it’s Valentine’s Day… And it’s the only way.

Then again, I might just regret saying the words I said. Ugh. I already am.

Sincerely,
You will always be my Boo.
(Funny, I'm saying what you used to say...)

Okay. Enough with the drama. Spare me the hot seat.
:)