Unsent Letters

Do you know how to speak Internet? (Danisnotonfire + Jacksgap = ♥.)
I’m not good with feels. At all. So instead of telling people that I can’t even, I write it out. Like this.
(And I change the names. Amy and Bob are my standard Average Joe names. Or, you know, I could just call them Joe… I like Bob better.)
—
You really loved your girlfriend, didn’t you?
And somehow, it feels like everything I say, you compare to her.
I’ve never broken up with someone. Hell, I’ve never gone out with them in the first place. But I know it can’t be good to be this… this upset.
You’re not talking to her now, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Because even if she made you think otherwise, girls like having friends. And I don’t know you that well, but I’d bet she wanted to stay friends.
Girls are good at lying. We have to be. We lie about our face (“Of course I’m not wearing make up!”). We lie about our friends (“I love them all!” We don’t. Trust me on that one). We lie about who we like and don’t like, because it’s safer that way. We don’t get hurt. Everyone’s happy.
Except we’re not. Because we lie so much, no one knows how we really feel. And we get upset when no one understands, when deep down, it’s our fault.
Maybe you should try talking to Amy. I know you have already, but maybe you should try again. And maybe this time, she’ll listen.
I don’t believe in altruism. (Aw.) And I do have a reason for saying this other than the fact it might make you happier (well, less upset). You feeling better is the main reason, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others.
It’s complicated (when isn’t it?), but it essentially boils down to two things: “It hurts when you’re upset” and “I’m not Amy, and I don’t like being compared to her”.
I’m not jealous of her. I’m really not. If you have Skype, I will say it to your face.
I just don’t like being compared to something – or someone – I’m not.

I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business. I know that I’m not going to send this, so it’s not fair of me to say it. And I know that you really do miss Amy.
But to be honest, I’m tired of lying.
I like you. And one day, I’ll find a way to show you.
—
It doesn’t necessarily make me feel better, but it helps. And sometimes, that’s enough.

Love always,
Victoria