Dear Boy

Dear Boy.

You are probably asking yourself, who is this person? Do I know her? Well, truth be told, you don’t have a clue who I am. I am in 4 of your classes, I’ve known you since 5th grade, but you still see right through me.
So you’re probably thinking ‘I don’t know her, why is she writing me?’ Well, I am writing because I want to tell you how much I love you. My infatuation with you. I have done everything I can to get you to notice me, yet you never do. I have become best friends with your girlfriends, but you would dump them one by one, and ignore them and their friends. I’ve dated your friends, but to you, I am always ‘that one chick’ your friend wants to bang. You never notice me, yet everyone can see how much I care for you.
Last year when you fell down the stairs and was in a coma for 3 days, I was at the hospital everyday. I eat lunch at your table everyday, but I’m just the girl that sits at the end of the table drinking the Mountain Dew. I’m the girl who has your name written all over her notebooks, and has a signed picture from you hanging on my mirror…I am just ‘that one girl’.
It’s obvious you don’t pay an ounce of attention to me, and that you probably never will. But that’s not your problem, that’s my problem.
Have you ever liked a girl so much you would do anything for them? That’s what I feel for you.
Now you’re probably thinking I’m a stalker, and many would agree with you. But you just don’t understand. I see how you dump every girl you date. I see you never get serious. I see it all. I see that you’re looking for something. Someone. I use to be like you, searching for that ‘one’. But I don’t search anymore, because I found him in you. I could look into your eyes and see our future together. I could see happiness. But you didn’t see that in me, in ‘that one girl’.
Well, it doesn’t matter anyways, because I’m gone. Yes, gone. Dead. However you want to put it, and now, to you, I bet I’m ‘that one girl that killed herself’. Not ‘that girl who was in love with me’. Not ‘that girl I loved so much I’d do anything for’. Not ‘that girl who made me so happy, that girl I could say or do anything with, and she wouldn’t care, that girl that made me feel like I was loved, and would never be alone again’. Not ‘that one girl that would’ve completed me, that one girl I would’ve been great with.’ Nope, I’m just ‘that one girl who killed herself’. I can hear the names now, floating around the school. That hellhole, where I watched you go on.
Yesterday you saw me leaving your locker with tears in my eyes. I saw that pause in your step, but you kept going. If you would’ve stopped…
I can see you now, your mind racing, thinking back to yesterday. Did you see me? I see that look on your face you get when you’re concentrating. I can see the worried twitch in your eyebrow…
But it’s too late anyways. I’m probably dieing as you read this. Not that it matters. You didn’t know me, why should you care?
I’m just telling you this. There will be someone who will take my place, they will see what I saw in you, and if you look closely, you will see it in them too. What you could’ve seen in me. Don’t ignore them. They could be the person that will make everything okay. Don’t condemn that person to the life I lived. That’s the worst thing you could do. Give every girl a chance. Listen to that girl that is too quiet to speak out loud. Help that girl in the hall that has too many books. Stop for that girl with the tears in her eyes…

With love…
That one girl…