A letter I will never send
Dear K,
I’m not sure how to start this off. I haven’t written love letters before, not ones that truly matter, at least. I don’t think this one does either, but I want it to. You know; to a third person my attraction to you might seem odd. Whenever I catch you sitting in the back of a classroom, or an isolated corner of the cafeteria. You’re always hunched over, like you’re piling yourself. Hiding. In these moments, you do not know that I see you. You’re usually immersed in a book or in your phone. The way you fold yourself makes it hard for people to catch your figure. I do, not because I have better set of eyes, but because I know which ones to look for. You’re not as neat when you’re aware of my presence though. Your shoulders are broader, you always take up space around me. Even with your thin figure and sleek movements. You always take up space. I feel small infront of you. Not necessarily because you’re much taller than me, but also because I feel a bit inferior. For I am in love, and you are not. I look up at you in desperation, and you look down in indifference. The first act of love is to let yourself look up, to feel small. Would you ever look up at me?
Unfortunately, my attraction isn’t just physical. If it was, I think this would be easier. You have a distinct voice, its not deep like most boys at your age. It isn’t shrilly like most other boys your age. Its something in between, a rasp when you pronounce you Hs. The crack when you speak a sentence too long and the awkward sort of way you say my name. Like you’re still practising, hesitating with every syllable. I don’t know if you’re scared that you’ll say it wrong, or that I won’t hear you. Maybe you just don’t like my name. I really like your’s though. It was in my list of baby names. It isn’t anymore, for obvious reasons. I also really really like your laugh. I rewind to hear it again in videos. Its a quiet, squeaky laugh. The kind that’s pleasing to the ears and hums well with other laughter. You don’t laugh much around me, for whatever reason. You do smile a lot. The polite kind, the genuine kind, the awkward kind. All of the kinds. And God, all of them have me floored. It was one of the first things I noticed about you. Your smile. That dimpled smile and how your eyes would become small, all teeth with the prettiest expression ever. I think I could stare at you like that forever.
You talk to me with this sweet, polite tone. Probably reserved for cashiers and for relatives you can’t recognise. You always treat me kindly, with respect and understanding. Its all a little formal. Except the time we fell to our knees laughing at some tiktok audio. Or when you kept saying the worst things in imposter. When we talked a bit too long on instagram and resorted to small jabs at one another. When we giggled about my bad work ethic and your even worst one. The way you side eyed me after seeing my letterboxd reviews and when I accused you of cheating in monopoly. Its small moments like this where we let go of formalities and just be us that I miss. That I crave. I wonder how it’d feel to have you run up and swing an arm around my neck. How it’d feel when you tease me for my food choices at the cafeteria. How your gaze would feel on me when I’m not looking. I imagine you as my friend before anything else. I imagine you as an immature, teenage boy before anything else. As someone who wakes up with disheveled hair and cleans his hands on his pants. I imagine you so human, so imperfect, before anything else. I love you anyway. I wanna have your eyes on mine anyway. Your light voice calling me out. Your tall frame walking next to mine. I want it all despite it all. Thats the problem. Fuck. Thats the problem.
I don’t know if the subtle eye contact and humourous conversations and private congratulations were all platonic. I’m sure I’m reading too into it. How you look at me and how you look at others. How you seem to trip over your words like I do as well. The smile you give me when I’ve melted and started being utterly myself. The silent looks of defeat when we’re both beyond tired. My pulse spikes everytime I see you unexpectedly, I feel like my heart is in my throat and I’ve lost my vocal cords. I wonder if you feel the same. Maybe a bit, maybe only a little. I’m not good at taking decisions. I tell people you’re a silly crush and then I smile thinking of you doing something completely random like playing something on your phone and forgetting your headphones were connected so you half put you ear to it. Neck craned and eyebrows furrowed. Why am I smiling? Because its you. I know you don’t feel the same, I don’t know how to make you feel the same. Maybe you sometimes find me pretty and kind. But I don’t think I linger in your mind. I don’t think you think of me doing mundane things in class and smile. I don’t think you spot me as easily in a crowd as I do. I don’t think you’re ever looking, either.
I know its all pathetic and stupid and sappy. Trust me I know. I wish the delusion was actually real and I didn’t feel like a loser all the time but thats not the case. Love isn’t something that just happens, but it did. Maybe its just infatuation, I hope it is. But even that, I can’t just rip at the bud and be on my merry way. I have to live through it, I have to live with it until it goes away or until I get you. That’s just how it goes, thats the way of things. I try to avoid your eyes and the classroom I know you’re in but sometimes I can’t. Sometimes we wave and you flash that disgustingly stupid smile at me and I feel myself falling before I even know I’ve made the jump. I don’t know how to get rid of it, K. Truly I don’t. Maybe when I graduate. Maybe when I find someone cuter. I don’t know. I can never tell you. So I wrote it. I can’t send you this. Maybe I’ll burn it, maybe we’ll laugh at this over dinner table at some point. I don’t know. I don’t know.
Your’s Truly,
Mahnoor.
Found this in my drafts #itwaslimerance LOL. Bro did such a number on me only cause he was cute and nice like wow the bar is in HELL. And dw I changed the initial because I'm not outing my ass thanks.
Thank you for reading!
Please warn me next time my god
You’re the number 1 yearner I love it