November 7th

I didn't really think it would be this difficult. Here I am, sitting at my computer, holding the thickest envelope you've ever seen in your life. Seriously, if mailed, postage would probably be fifteen dollars. And I'm really finding it difficult to break the seal on this first letter.

On the front I drew multiple, bubbly hearts all around the words,
To: Mr. Letterbox
From: My heart. And another bright pink heart.

A little cheesy, yeah, but I was fifteen and a hopelessly forsaken romantic at that.

Deep breath now. I AM going to open this letter. It's just tough, because I never thought I would be the one to open it. I know that I'd always hoped that Mr. Letterbox (oh, heck, he needs a real name. How about Steve) would be the one to open it. I'd always dreamed that I'd someday confess my undying love to him, give him the countless letters I'd written him, and we'd live forever in blissful, eternal love for all of peaceful eternity.

Funny how what you want is rarely what you get. Or, what you think you want.

Okay... here goes nothing and everything. By breaking this seal, I'm confirming to myself that I am completely over it, passed him, and moved on. And I'm accepting that we will never be together.... And when Ben comes to mind... I'm okay with that.

Here we go, people. Letter One...

(Oh, dear goodness, it's longer than I even imagined! And my handwriting is messy beyond description... And why did I dot all of my I's with hearts?)

Tuesday, November 7th, 5:12pm

Dear Steve,

Wow, where should I begin? Here I am on this Tuesday evening, and all I can think about is you. What's new, though, right? You've been the only guy for me since I was ten years old. From the first night we met a few years ago, I've known that I could never love anyone else. And I haven't.

I remember every detail of the night we first met; what you were wearing, what we were doing, and so on. It was hard for me, a little girl of ten years old, to realize that she was in love. But she was, and still is.

The first night we ever spoke, I thought I could fly. I soon fell even harder in love with you, and knew that I never, ever wanted that feeling to leave. And it never has.

Even when I dated other guys, you were always the one in my mind. There's only been you.

When I was twelve years old, I let it slip how I felt about you. I was more than devastated when I found out that you knew. I thought my chances with you were gone. But things seemed to get better when I met [ex-boyfriend's name]. Little did I know then how bad things would spiral out of control in the near future...

At first, I tried to forget you. But when I called [ex-boyfriend] "Steve," I knew I was just hurting myself. Although he didn't notice... Throughout my relationship with him, I could never forget you -- not once. I broke up with him because I loved you too much to be with someone else.

When YOU found your first girlfriend, and I found out... I pretty much cried myself to sleep every night. Recently, there have been rumors of your break-up, and it seems as though you've been giving me attention. I've never been happier.

If there's one thing I can say, Steve, is that you bring out the extremes in me. Whether I'm extremely happy, extremely sad, or extremely worried, it's always been you -- for you.

[Goodness... editing a rambling page and a half of how my love will never die...]

If someday you find this letter, and I'm not around to read it with you, I just wanted to tell you how I feel. And I wanted to thank you. Thank you for being the one for me, even if I'm not the one for you. I can only hope and pray that someday, my feelings won't be unrequited. I've found that if things are meant to be... they have a way of working themselves out.

There's nothing I don't love about you. There's nothing I don't want to know about you, and there's nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you, or forget you.

I'll never forget you, my first love. No matter what, I'll ever say, I don't think it's possible to forget a love this strong, or a person so fantastic. There's not a second that goes by that you don't cloud my thoughts. --Don't get me wrong. It's a wonderful feeling! Just a little... extreme.

Steve, I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone. I get butterflies! Never had that before... This has to be love. You're my everything. I mean that. I love you.

Forever and Always,
Sarah

If there's one thing I haven't learned since then, it's how NOT to ramble. Haha. Saying a whole lot of nothing in a lot more words has always been my specialty. ^_^

Wow, is all I can say though. I thought I loved him so much. I thought I couldn't live a day without him. But he's gone forever now, and you know? I didn't love him. I didn't know what love meant. I didn't know what it meant to love, feel love, feel someone else's love for you. I lost him. And moved on... then, I lost Ben. Talk about pain. Talk about wanting to rip your heart out and throw it into the garbage disposal just to kill the pain... It's maddening. But really, we all feel that. It gets easier. You love, then lose, and get up.

Tonight, while I was driving I came up over a hill going at least 65mph, and sooner than I could react, I ran over a juicy dead deer, screamed like a maniac, and swerved off the road. Then, I just sat there, nearly hyperventilating. What I realized while I sat crooked on the highway, hazards flashing was... Ben couldn't care less if I had died just then and there. He wouldn't care if I had crashed into a tree and split my head open and laid there bleeding to death! He wouldn't care. And that's so tough to accept.

I think we all deserve to be surrounded by people who really love us, appreciate us, and want our best interest. Someone to call when your new tires have pieces of road-rashed Bambi's bones protruding out of them.

Well, that's all really. I'm going to sign off tonight with a promise: No more sad songs. No more crying over Ben. No more finding an excuse to bring up his name in random conversation (Oh, you know you do it, too). And no more actively looking for free time to be alone, sulk, and cry over how I'm unlovable. Because that's just not true. It's not true for anyone. We're all loveable. And you know what else? I think deep down in everyone there's someone strong enough to get back on the highway of love, move on passed the bloody deer carnage that is our broken hearts, let your new puppy lick the excess blood off your tires (yeah, I actually did that...), and just keep driving. (Even if you can still hear the grating of its ribcage scraping against the pavement like I did tonight...)

Xoxo,
Sarah