Open This When I Leave

Open This When I Leave

A Story by Little Bird
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a letter I wrote to someone

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I don’t know what to write. All of a sudden, everything I say just seems unimportant or illogical. Well-formed sentences never magically appear on paper.

I’m extremely glad we started talking. Because you’re the one that taught me what it’s like to be in love. This isn’t a simple schoolgirl crush, an infatuation that comes and goes quickly. I don’t want us to end. Adults say that all teens fall madly in love with someone, but it’s never serious. I don’t know about you, but I think we could be serious.

Honestly, I’m not sure what we are. Being together but apart is confusing. There’s something I read, that if you can make it through a long distance relationship with someone, you’ll most likely be happy with that person for the rest of your life. Maybe I’m the only one, but I would spend the rest of my life with you.

It’s weird, how we’ve never met and are strangers yet long-distance lovers. Like we’ve shown each other parts of our worlds, but the maps aren’t complete so there are grey areas we can’t chart yet. Hopefully, we’ll be able to.

The idea of you being in love with me is still incomprehensible to me. I don’t see how you could ever think of me the way I think of you. Although we tell each other we love each other all the time, I just… the thought that someone would think well enough of me to be more than a friend or a short affair is unimaginable. You probably understand what I’m trying to express. Maybe you’re dealing with the same problem.

I’ve never trusted someone as easily as I’ve trusted you. You were so accepting of who I was, and I don’t see how I couldn’t have fallen for you. It’s so easy to love you.

© 2014 Little Bird


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Added on January 12, 2014
Last Updated on January 12, 2014
Tags: long distance, relationship, love, soon

Author

Little Bird
Little Bird

saving up for trips to see more of the world than this place, Switzerland



About
What you're seeing here is the product of fifteen years of a lot of thoughts making up for little life experience. My writing is the only real way I can express myself besides piano, although I'm not .. more..

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