Dear S.-

  I think you will forever be a charming bastard. No matter the warmth or seeming care, you're cold. I don't know why I ever bothered wishing you a Merry Christmas. Boredom is dangerous, I suppose.

Most happily-
Your Ex

Dear First Kiss-

I found you on Facebook, I think. I want to friend you, but I'm hesitant and shy. Do you even remember me? Who are you now?

Blast from the past

Dear Dad (and members of Dad's family),

Before the divorce, you were in my life, treating me like the princess I was to you. Every Christmas, you'd smile and laugh when I'd open a present and squeal when it was from you. Those were the best times of my life.

HOWEVER...

After the divorce, it all stopped. COMPLETELY. I was 14 when you and Mom divorced. You couldn't even send a fucking card? Or even a phone call? You KNEW where we lived and you still didn't do anything. Why? What had I done wrong?

The last time I saw you was when I was 16. There wasn't a "Hey, how have you been?" or even an "I love you." There was a stare. Like I wasn't even wanted anymore. Like YOU didn't want me anymore. Do you know what that did to me? It broke my heart and I swore to Mom the next time I'd see you was when you were dead... and I wished it would happen soon.

Eleven Christmases later, and STILL nothing. Not even a card or a phone call. I may have Mom's family (which is freaking HUGE) behind me and my boyfriend (who is black, by the way, and treats me a HELL of a lot better than you), but still... I needed YOU. YOU, my DAD.

I'm tired of hiding how depressed I am this time of year and crying when I'm alone and acting it's all okay in front of my family and my boyfriend. It's not right. And it's definitely NOT okay. If my grandmother had been alive, she'd have told you to give a damn. But she isn't.

So, for once in your selfish life, give a damn about the daughter who wants to know why you don't call or say you love her.

~Your daughter (and niece)~

Dear terence,

I've never thought about this, nor feel like it, but its been 6 years since we've met. I've let you down, and i can't tell you how sorry i am. For the immature things i did, for not being upfront and honest with you, for running away and feigning ignorance.

But every time we manage to talk, be it your birthday or mine, valentine's, new year or christmas, even exams, any reason for me to text you or possibly receive a message from you, my heart leaps with joy at seeing your name appear on the screen, and crumples in disappointment when i wait in vain.

And i hope you know, that when i tell you i love you, i mean it. Every time.

A large part of me wishes that you haven't moved on, that you still love me though i always wonder why you do. I know this is so selfish but i want you to always be there for me.

I write this in the hope that the next time we meet, your smile and the warmth in your hands remain the same.

This time, this time i hope we result in something.

All my love,
wife.

Hey you,
Get your ass over here already.
I miss you like fuck. The holiday season is no fun without you.
-Me.

Dear you,

I was sitting in a rental car in a parking lot outside of a grocery store in California. And I thought of you.

I thought of you and how much I miss you and I miss us and I miss the people we were before that summer.

And I want to see you when I get back home. I want to see you because I want to prove that we can build something resembling a functional friendship. But I know that there is a part of me that wants to leave her and hold you close and whisper in your ear that everything is going to be alright again. Because I am crazy and insane and god knows what else.

I find myself with A, in an amazing relationship that seems like it could only end in engagement or failure.

And the part of me that wants it to fail so that we could happen again is kicking and screaming and resisting.

That part of me that will always be in love with you wherever I go.

And it passes. The feeling passes and fades and the kicking and screaming stops. And I realize that you are you and I am I and we will never be the same again. I realize that I will never wake up next to you and I will never kiss you goodnight again and that is just the way it is. And it is not bad, and it is not good, it just is.

Love,
P

 To my wonderful Crimson Tide, 

I love you guys so much. I have been with you many years, despite cruel jokes from my brothers and distaste from my father. I have backed you up against Tennessee, while shouting at my stepfather via phone, and I laughed and cheered at Tebow's tears. You guys have accomplished so much!!! I am so proud of you!
Now, all I am asking for is another victory. Just beat the ever loving crap out of Texas in the BCS game, and I won't ask for anything else. In order to win, you guys need to take the next 14 days seriously. Please take care of yourselves!
GOOD LUCK GUYS! 

Love,

A teenage Alabama fan

Dear          ,

You're here. There is an opportunity staring straight at me in the face and I am not taking action. I don't have the guts to. It's an insane, ridiculous, terrible idea and I'm frustrated with myself for thinking of it in the first place.

It's obvious now that however many times I state, "I'm over it," to myself or others, it is not valid for anything. Even without communication for weeks, a simple little blip in that time plot is enough for me to resort to taking a few steps back to calm down any conflicting emotions -- and by conflicting emotions, I mean still wanting.
Not being over,
Still hoping,
Still wishing,
Still thinking,
Still missing;
It's all still maddening.

It's been two-and-a-half years since it first began. It's been one-and-a-half years since it first ended. Or, at least, it was supposed to.

That one evening before it was all gone was too close to perfect. It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. Maybe if that evening didn't exist, this situation of emotions wouldn't be occurring.. maybe, or maybe not.

We were such kids. Aren't we supposed to get over things like that? Learn to let go? Or does it take longer for it to happen? I tried tricking myself into believing I was over it, but I now realize that it only works when that blip is non-existent.

The reason why it was so much more different and the fall that much higher was because of who you are.. is because of who you are. Your character. Personality. The stark line in the sand between you and the rest..

Or maybe I'm just -- still -- feeding into the thoughts of the young whilst I'm writing this.
Get real and grow up. Grow up and get real.
The thoughts of yesterday are petty in comparison to the thoughts of today..

..but I'm still feeling this feeling that I don't want to feel.

A reply is something I still have yet to receive now, and it's for the better if the rest of the night does not hold one for me. Oh, but I may have spoke too soon.. the blue is blinking. I don't want to check. I don't want to know that it's you, yet I don't want to know that it isn't.

I'm waving to this opportunity as it passes me by. Don't worry, though, dear opportunity, you will be sorely missed. Tomorrow, or the next day, will be spent with anguish in my mind, conjuring up possible possibilities that this night could have nurtured.

I'll continue with the facade. This is me, making things more difficult for myself.
It isn't anything new.

Have a nice, fine pre-Christmas eve.

Truly, though not yours,
    .

Love everyone.

Dear Texas football team:
Kick butt in the BCS Championship game. Alabama needs a good slap in the face. Their egos are too inflated.
Although I'm not a particular fan of yours, please do this for me. It would make this loss & Tim Tebow's tears not so bad.
- A rather upset Florida fan