Letter to [You] – Three

I’m sorry. I have always been sorry. To be honest, I probably always will be–at least a little.

Your first love is supposed to be some whirlwind romance. You fall in love too fast, you break your heart with him and maybe he puts it back together. Then you realize that maybe you were too young to know what love really is. But that love–whether it fell apart, stayed strong, or went against the expectations of the people who didn’t believe in you–was real.

We didn’t have that. We crashed and burned before our relationship could even blossom into something real. I was lost and broken and confused, not believing that a boy could like me. I didn’t like me, so how could anyone else? I wondered how you could see anything appealing about me through the towering walls I put up. I mean, you spotted me on the bleachers at my brother’s baseball game when I was in the worst of moods, ready to cry for whatever reason. Maybe “bitchface” is not my worst enemy…

But skip forward through my first kiss ever and you not wanting to sit with me at the next game because my dad was sitting nearby. I smile at these memories. Funny how you were scared of my dad at the time when he wouldn’t hurt a fly. When Gracie does nothing but joke with him–calling him “Hef” (because his name is Hugh), for crying out loud. Maybe you were a little scared too. Safer with your buddies than me and my sisters. But fast-forward all of that to when I pushed all my friends away, and you along with them. They were dictating all my moves, and I didn’t like it. I was sick all those months (fighting the nastiest sinus infection I hope I never have again) and I couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t have power over my body, all I wanted was power over my emotions. Thanks to depression, I couldn’t even have that.

I should have told you. I wanted to so badly. You were the first one to see me for what I saw myself as. Maybe you were the one who could pull me out of that dark place. But I wouldn’t let you. I couldn’t face the fact that I thought you would hate me for it. It’s why I’ve never told people about me, especially guys who like me. I eventually push them away just like I did to you. Our break up was the epitome of “it’s not you, it’s me” because I was the problem. You did nothing wrong. You were sweet and kind, and I didn’t deserve that. You still probably thought it was because I didn’t like you anymore. It was far from true, but it was better you thought that. Easier for you to forget me and easier for me to sink into the Darkness I found solace and comfort in. At the time, I believed that to be good thing.

I am sorry that we dropped out of each other’s lives, though it was probably for the best. I could forget about you and me and move on. Try to recover, even. You didn’t have to think about me, and I hope you didn’t lose any sleep over me. I hope you never do.

Spending that time at the lake with you got me thinking about all this. About how I have this apology in my head. I wonder if you thought about the same sort of things I did, or if seeing me brought up a weirdly bitter aftertaste in your mouth. But I am glad that we did nothing but laugh together. I was happy to see you so carefree about the world. I was glad you teased me about not drinking (or rather you poked the bear to get me to confess–still nothing to confess!) and threatened to tip me in my donut float over in the lake, rather than ignoring each other the whole time. I am happy you are happy. You deserve to be.

Love always, A


Letter to [You] – Two

Hiya, folks.

Today I have another “Letter to You” post. This one was going to be about one thing, but then it kind of turned into another. I liked that change of thought; it really shows how my experiences have affected me recently. My train of thought has kind of been all over the place lately, and writing this letter was no different.

I believe that the past has a direct influence on who you are in the present, and because of that you should not forget it. Maybe not dwell on it, but learn from it. Moving on is one thing, but moving forward is another. This letter made me realize what I learned from the person it is directed at. For a very long time, I did not see the situation this way, but I have discovered a positive method of looking at it.


There was once a time when I wondered who was going to miss me when I was gone. And for a really long time, I believed that the answer to that question was no one. But I am not the only one to ever think this.

As I sit here and reluctantly but inevitably think back to that dark time, I can’t help but think back to you. You were the first one to share my love of music and songwriting. You inspired me to be open with my work. I was shy before…you changed that. You were my first real best friend.

Little did I know, you were a lie. You lied and picked fights out of insecurities. Up until now I pitied myself for what you did to me, but I see that I should have felt bad for you. It must have been terrible to have to make up good things about yourself. At least I never lied about who I was. I may not have liked myself, but at least I wasn’t pretending to be someone else.

I’m sorry I let you make me feel worthless after that summer, but I’m not sorry you have to accuse me of leaving a note saying “I hate you”–a note that you wrote yourself. That was a low point, don’t you think? That’s when I knew I deserved better than you.

So as much as I credit you to “ruining my life,” I also have to thank you for helping me realize that I had so much potential. Because of you, I know that I don’t have to settle for people who are not good for me.

You don’t have to worry about me when I die, but I will save a moment of silence for you.

Always, A


It’s funny how your train of thought can change so drastically so quickly. It is times like this when I like to see where my mind takes me. My brain is a very jumbled place thanks to my midterms last week, and I am trying to sort through it all.

On the bright side, I just wrote the most important part of my book! It was the big reveal, and I could not be more excited. I have worked so hard and put so much effort into this novel. It is crazy to think that I am about to be finished with it. Good thing I have several outlines for the next one!

Stay classy, A 🙂

Letter to [You] – One

I’m starting this little thing I am going to call “Letter to You,” and it’s going to be so-called letters to no one in particular. There more like rants, but fancier. This one is from yesterday, but I will try to post them the day-of.


Sometimes I just don’t get boys. Or relationships–or rather a lack thereof. Like, if you like me, and we spend all this time together, then why don’t we just date? We pretty much already are. Why don’t we just label it? I mean, I meant it when I said I didn’t want a relationship, but that was ten weeks ago, at least. I didn’t think we would spend this much time together, but because we have, I’m getting attached. It’s only natural; I’m just a relationship person.I’m starting to get impatient, but since I still like him, I don’t want to let go. I don’t want this all to be for nothing. However, I still don’t know where he stands on all this. For all I know, we could be “just friends” in his eyes–if this is what he does with all of his “just friends.” I mean, I hope it’s not, because then I am here stupidly getting attached to a boy who doesn’t want anything more. A boy who I am, once again, letting lead me on. I promised myself it’s be different this time, that I wouldn’t let myself get attached if it wasn’t real…not that last time it wasn’t. This time, I just want things to be different. I don’t want to get invested unless it’s going to last–or at least, not have an expiration date that I stupidly choose to ignore or extend. I just don’t want to be stupid again.

Always, A


It’s mostly just my thoughts all running together and me trying to write them out to make them make sense. My mind is getting pretty jumbled lately. Thanks, finals. Anyway, I love y’all more than words ❤