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I havent written in here for a while.

Yesterday I finished a four page letter I have been writing to Jon. I contemplated whether to send it to him for ages, and ages, and ages. Ollie told me I should, and I usually trust Ollie's judgement, but I just wasnt sure.

So Jon rang me last night, to say goodbye because he's going away for a week, and I told him I wrote him a letter. I told him it was kind of weird, but I hoped he wouldnt get freaked out, and he said he wouldnt, and he wants it...so, I guess I'm going to have to give it to him, arent I?

I'm going to post it here for future reference.

Dear Jon,

I should stop writing letters to you, I know I should. But it seems to help me. Somehow. I just thought I’d write again to let you know I still love you, because my last letter was a bit harsh. I know you wont particularly care, and I don’t blame you, but I thought I’d say it anyway.

Remember the stories we used to write together? I stopped writing them now. I just can’t think about Adam and Laura anymore. Because I know that its just going to turn into our story if I write any more of it, and I don’t want to write our story. I want our story to write itself. When I wrote about Laura and Adam, I tried not to get myself carried away in their lives, in their world, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes I wanted them to be together even more than I wanted us to be together. Because I told myself that if they could do it, we could. I suppose I was wrong both ways. Because we both knew that Laura and Adam’s story couldn’t end happily, it just couldn’t. I think that at the end, they may tell each other how they felt, but the reality wouldn’t be how they imagined it. And they would move on. Our story differs slightly. Of course, I don’t know the ending yet, but I’ve imagined it quite a lot. I don’t want to talk about it, because it makes me sad to think about it. Once I found a picture that said on it “Real love stories don’t have happy endings, because real love stories never end.” I think that this is a really nice quote, don’t you? I don’t know how true it is, but I suppose if you think about it, it is. Would you call us a real love story? I wish I could. I’m not denying my love for you. Not at all. But real love has to be requited…and ours isn’t. I know that you told me you love me, but you don’t. I just know you don’t. And I don’t blame you. I don’t deserve you, I said this to you before, I’m not sure if you remember, because I said this to you before I told you how I feel about you. But I don’t deserve you, I never have, never will. You’re absolutely amazing. Everything about you is unique, special, amazing, and beautiful. I can’t remember what it was like before I loved you, and I fear that I never will. Because even though deep down I know that I can’t, I wont love you forever, I can’t imagine ever not loving you. It just doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t I love you? How wouldn’t I love it? I just can’t rationalize it. That’s another one of my problems. I have to rationalize everything. Every little thing. And I shouldn’t. The stupidest things will keep me up all night; they’re not always about you. Sometimes it will be something one of my friends said during the day, I would lay there thinking, what did they mean by that? Is that another thing I should be cautious of about myself? I wish I didn’t do this, but I just can’t sleep at night with these things unsolved. I can’t sleep at night anyway. I think I tell you I love you too much. Does it freak you out? It probably does. Oh well. I can’t help it. I just love you so much. With every single fibre of my being, every part of me. Last night I started to cry, and I was looking through my inbox of text messages, and I found one from you saying “I’m sorry if I don’t live up to your expectations. I’ll love you no matter what. You are the best thing ever.” Needless to say, this made me cry a hell of a lot more. I just can’t help but think that the time when you actually meant that was never there. Did you really mean it? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I wish I thought so, but I don’t. I just can’t imagine that for a minute, you could love me to any of the extent that I love you. It’s just impossible. I remember when Marleigh said to me “He loves you more than you love him!” Even at the time, I thought this was the most wrong thing ever, but I know even more now. We didn’t have enough time. We just didn’t. I didn’t have enough time to disguise my real self like I do for everyone else, so you caught a glimpse of the real me, the disgusting person that hides away and puts on a mask of false humour to make everyone feel comfortable again, and that probably made you think twice about any love for me you’d previously felt. I can’t help but think that there are so many things I have to thank you for. The littlest thing I suppose is for getting me into Bright Eyes, which makes me cry almost as much as you do. Thank you for letting me into your life, which you probably regret, but thank you anyway. Thank you for telling me you love me, however much or little you meant it, at the time it made me happier than you can possibly imagine. Thank you for inviting me to see you a couple weeks back, it was the best time of my life. I’ve never been happier. I really haven’t. I wont deny that the happiest I’ve ever been was when I was lying in your arms watching Donnie Darko. I’ve never felt so happy, so secure, so safe…so loved. I cant tell you how many times when I feel upset I have gone over that moment in my mind, cherishing it because it is the greatest thing ever to me. So thank you for that moment, and the moments that were before it. I have a picture of me where I am hiding from the camera, I have my hands over my face, and my friend Ollie took it of me. I only realised today how relevant that picture is. It’s me all over. I hide. I hide from cameras all the time because I do not want to face looking at the pictures that show all my imperfections that I try to forget during the day but always come back to taunt me at night, telling me over and over again how worthless I am, and how there will never be anyone to love me, I don’t deserve anyone. I hide from my friends, hardly anyone sees me for what I really am. But you did. I was myself to you, and I shouldn’t have been I realise. I should have been the one I am to everyone else, but I thought maybe you would like the real me. I don’t know if you did, I don’t know if you hated her, I don’t know anything anymore. I like to hide because if they found me I’m not sure what I’d tell them. I can’t break out of this disguise now, because they are all used to it. It’s like if I was actually wearing a disguise, and I suddenly revealed what I really looked like, everyone would be shocked. And I want to keep my friends, so I’m not going to be shocking anyone any time soon. There are only three people I can really trust, and they are Miriam, Marleigh and you. I can trust Miriam because she is my best friend and I have known her forever, and we’re connected. I can trust marleigh because she is one of my closest friends there has ever been and I love her and will do forever, and we’ve always been there for each other. And I can trust you…because you’re you, and I love you more than anyone. I hate the fact that I love you more than anyone, because that means I cant trust myself in the things I would give up to be with you, or to make you happy. I also don’t like it because as much as I hate to and don’t admit it, I do seem to love you more than most people I know. I know I can name 5 friends already that I would sacrifice my friendship with if I could be with you, and you don’t know how much that scares me. Sometimes I really do hope that I will wake up one morning and just forget you, forget I love you, forget I ever met you, and it wont have happened. But then I think, would I really want that? Would I really want to forget the only person that ever made me truly happy? And the truth is I wouldn’t. But then I think that I wouldn’t know true happiness if I forgot you, so I wouldn’t really be missing anything, would I? But…I don’t know. I don’t know if I will ever send you this letter, and even if I do, I don’t know if you will ever read it. If I do send you this, then I probably will have scared you too much by now for you to keep reading, or to ever talk to me again, which I don’t blame you for. Only recently have I stopped writing poetry about you, because I can’t face thinking about you when I don’t have to. The last poem I wrote was about a dream I had, about a lovesick old woman sitting in a withered chair by the fireside looking at photographs. I don’t know where it came from, but it inspired me, and hardly anything does these days. You were always the inspiration before, but I wont let myself write about you anymore because it hurts too much. I told you I would include the line about age’s fingers somewhere, and I did. I know that my next poem will have the something with the words salt cracked in it. It sounds crazy now, but hopefully it wont when I start writing it. I hope I can see you sometime this summer, and I hope you will want to see me. And I hope I can just hear your voice again, to make me feel happy. And I wish you would love me, and I wish everything was alright again, and I wish marleigh was happy, and I wish Miriam was happy, and I wish I wish I wish. I wish I could rely on something stronger than childlike wishes, but I cant. I just cant anymore, nothing works. I just want…I don’t know. I know I want you, but I think I’d prefer it if I could just guarantee your happiness, and marleighs and Miriam’s and all my friends, and I just want them to be happy is that so bad? I don’t like it when people shout in my house, I don’t like it when they shout at me but it makes me upset when they are shouting at my sister or my mum or my dad because I don’t want people to shout. I wish people were happy. See there I go, wishing again. Please make me stop. Please, please make me stop, make me be happy too. But do whatever you can to make yourself happy first, because I think in the end that is what would make me happy to perfection. I just want to know that there is nothing making you upset, and if there was then I would do all I could to make it stop even though I know I probably couldn’t and I definitely know I wouldn’t have anything to do with it, or at least I hope I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to make you upset. I hope I haven’t. I’m starting to wonder what the point of this letter was, if your not going to read it. Oh well, I suppose I just wanted to create an image in my head of someone that would read my letter. Will you read my letter? I don’t know. I don’t know if I want you to read my letter. Have I already typed this? I don’t know, I can’t be bothered to scroll up when I’m in mid flow. I can still remember how great it felt to have your hands wrapped around mine, why do you make me so happy? Why, why, why do you make me happier than anyone else? Its not fair Jon, it really isn’t. I don’t want you to. I really don’t. I wish I didn’t feel like this, its just not fucking fair. Ever since I met you I’ve had feelings I wish I didn’t, and it’s just not fair. Why did I have to meet you? I didn’t want to. Well, everything was okay for the first couple days at Limmud…but when I started feeling things for you…that’s when it all went wrong, didn’t it? Well, maybe you don’t think it went wrong as such but I think it did because then I wouldn’t be in this awful position of not knowing what I want, who I love, what’s going on anymore. I wouldn’t have my friends feeling like I don’t love them anymore, which is crazy I know. But I wouldn’t have all this stuff going on. But I want you so bad. I want you SO bad. I just want to know that you love me, I guess. But I know that no matter how many times you told me, even if you meant it, I wouldn’t believe it. I’m just not capable of believing that anyone would love me, I just guess I hate myself too much to understand why anyone else wouldn’t. And why wouldn’t they? I’m nothing special; I understood that from day one. I’m not going to amount to anything because everyone is better than me at everything I’ve ever tried, and this world doesn’t accept anything but the best, and I bet you know that too. I’m tired of always being the one that watches all her talented friends get on and do what they want. I want to be doing that too. I guess I’m just too scared of rejection. Why am I so scared of rejection? I really wish I wasn’t.  My dreams are so unrealistic simply because I’m not special enough, which is hard to stand, I wish I was good enough. I wish I were good enough for them, for everyone, for you. I want to be special for you; I want to be someone that you wont forget. But I’m not, which used to be hard to accept but it comes naturally now. I don’t know how much longer this letter is going to go on for, I don’t know how much longer I am going to be able to bear to write to you. I always write to you. But if you are reading this, then this is the first one you’ve ever read. The other letters are insignificant now. Everything important is in this one. I hope your not annoyed at me for this being so long, I’m sorry, I really am. I can’t help it, I have a lot to say. I think about all the times you’ve made me laugh…usually at some complete insane hour in my parents mind like 12 or 1 am…but I don’t care, they were such fun. I also remember how weird it felt coming back to school from Manchester and not holding anyone’s hand. It just felt strange. But I soon got used to it…I hold Miriam’s hand though; she’s the greatest person there ever was. I can’t think of someone I’m closer with (apart from you, of course.) I really can tell her anything…that’s why I still don’t quite understand why it took me so long and I found it so hard to tell her how much I loved you. But she understood, why I doubted she would I just don’t know. Miriam is upset badly about something and I don’t know what it is or why she’s upset and its really really troubling me. I don’t know, it could be about Leon (that’s her stepdad) because shes never liked him and him and her mum argue a lot. Oh I don’t know, it’s just really bothering me. Should I let it? I don’t know. Do you? I have enough sense to know that nothing lasts forever, but I thought that being able to tell people things was something I could rely on a little longer than it turns out to be. I hope I can still tell you things…I know I find it hard to tell people when I’m upset, but please don’t take that personally. I don’t tell anyone when I’m upset. I just think its one of those things that is better left unsaid. Because if I told people then they would either get freaked out, or they would get worried, and I definitely don’t want anyone to worry about me because I’m not worth it. And don’t you fucking DARE say I am, because you know as well as I do that I’m not and you would just be lying. I don’t know to be honest what made me feel such utter contempt for myself. Well…I suppose, if I think back far enough, I can.

When I was nine my auntie died, and it really affected and changed me. I couldn’t help thinking that I never talked to her enough, because she was such an actual genuine amazing person, and I just took her for granted. I was such an idiot. I didn’t know she was dying, I didn’t even fucking know. I didn’t bother to find out. I just thought she’d be there forever, and I was wrong. I started to hate myself for being so stupid, and everytime I looked in the mirror I would just see the fat ugly girl that was standing there and it would disgust me just as much as it does now. I suppose it also didn’t help that I had the kids at school reminding me of this fact every day. Mostly it was kids that were younger than me, which was a bit humiliating. They would just come up to me and tell me I was fat, ugly, and that no one liked me. I had Miriam and Jessye back then, and Mushki also…but we kind of got split up when this girl Lauren also decided to tell me all this shit about myself, and then try and get my friends to leave me. Mushki and Miriam did for a while, but Jessye didn’t. And that’s the reason I still hang round with her, or put up with her or whatever, despite how annoying she has got now. Because I’ve never forgotten the fact that when everyone else deserted me, she stuck by me. She wouldn’t leave. She didn’t care what everyone else said, she was my friend. So were Miriam and Mushki obviously, but they were closer with each other then so they didn’t care that much. After a little while they realised how much of a bitch Lauren really was and came back to me and Jessye, apologising profusely of course. Since then I cant help thinking that all my friends are just going to ditch me. And I severely doubt that they wont, because why wouldn’t they? Lauren was two years older than us, so we only had to put up with her for one year, but of course that was also the year that Auntie Annabelle died, and I just didn’t know what was going on. That’s when I grew up. That’s when I really grew up. Leah sussed it out, she really did. She just came up to me and said “Livi you grew up to fast. You just did. Your aunts death affected you badly and you thought you would just be a big girl and hide it all away but it really did change you, and now you cant help feeling how you feel, because you’ve been this way too long.” Am I that obvious? I just want to hide away. Somewhere where no one will see me, and I don’t have to worry anymore. Oh god…I don’t know whats going to happen. Ollie says I should send this to you, I don’t know. He hasn’t read it of course. But he thinks it would be best if you read it. Maybe it would. I don’t know. But if you are reading this, promise me one thing. Promise me that you will always believe that I love you. Because I do. I really do.


Well. This is it for now. I’m not known for writing letter this long, that’s usually Marleigh’s job. But anyway.


I love you.




Yeah, its pretty long, I know. I dont know whether I should alter it in some parts if I'm actually going to give it to him. Oh well. I dont know anymore.


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