dear bestest friend

Dear Bestest Friend,

I'm sorry.

You couldn't possibly think I could've stayed away for so long, right? You've always called me an easy love, that my heart was too visible, and well, I can't blame you. I fell in love with you like I fell in love with so many things, like writing and slow walks with you to school.

In hindsight, I think it was unavoidable to fall in love with such perfection. Your laugh was so melodic, and your eyes, I swear they held every single star the galaxy. Cheesy, I know, but it's so true. Everything about you is so perfect; your cheeks with freckled constellations, your lips with a perfect cupid's bow, your hands.

Your hands are comforting, and I've thought about holding them several times.

My heart would be safe in those hands.

I remember when we first met in sixth grade; you thought I was a weird girl too obsessed with the wrong things and I thought you were a girl too oblivious to the cruelty of the world. But now, I'm so incredibly glad you sat next to me in History.

Saying you gave me butterflies would be like saying the world had only a few people in it. It's like every time you look at me, I get robins, bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds in my stomach, buzzing about and demanding to be noticed. Your affect on me with even the smallest things is so stupid, I reprimand myself all the time for it. Hell, I don't even know if you're gay!

I don't really think me falling in love with you is so unusual. I think all our friends knew before I even knew, with their little knowing glances and sly smirks, but I'm just worrying because what if you knew? Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I slipped my hand in yours or pecked you on the cheek. Would you be mad? Would you be disgusted? Would you smile and kiss me, cup my face in your hands and lean in? 

I get these small bursts of thoughts, telling me to fall to my urges, asking what's stopping me.

But I can't just lean in and kiss your lips; I'm a coward. My anxiety-ridden ass can't even say I love you without freaking out, much less kiss you. But God, do I wish. So, so, so much. No matter how much I want to lean in, I can't risk losing you. I don't know how I'd survive in such a way.

You've said I love you to me multiple times, I wonder if you know what effect it has on me. I want to know if you mean it as friends, or if you hope for something more, just like me. Impossible, sure, but a desperate girl can dream, right?

I know this letter isn't going to change anything, but can't I just imagine you being mine?

Sincerely,

Your Bestest Friend