HOME | DD

Description
A/N: so, here it is. Another submission. Geez, it sucks! Anyway, if you can, please don't read it. It sux. Really.

Disclaimer: It's whole my idea. And keep your dirty hands away!

- - - -

Hi,

I know, that a letter should begin with questions. How is addressee feeling, etc., etc, but this letter will be only ’bout me. I won’t be angry on You, if You won’t read it. I myself, seeing this letter would throw it immediately to the rubbish bin. But, maybe You won’t? Naw, You would throw it away. What am I to You? Nothing. Very good. At least, I would vanish You from my had.

So, you already know, what’s going on. I never had enough courage to send to You this letter. It would come out, that You’d never liked me (which is obvious) and, that I have some idiotic obsession about You. At school I had to pretend that I don’t like You. I was afraid. I didn’t want anybody to learn about it, and the worst thing could ever happen would be, that You would discover it. It would be horrible. And now, when my mother not on purpose read it, I had nearly cried. Fortunately, my friend sent me a short message and I got a grip of myself.

Returning to me (this is a little bit egoistic, but You’re not reading, right?). I couldn’t for goodness sake ever let you know about my feelings. You never liked me this way. It would get not nice and confusion from both sides and we would never joke and tease each other. Like friends. But I couldn’t even be Your friend.

Like me? Hah, very, very funny. Impossible. It would be a degradation, wouldn’t it?

I was always jealous. Not about this, that you liked someone else (Nathalie, Monique, Martha, Makumba or Katie?). I was jealous that You teased every single girl. You can’t even imagine how much jealousy was written on my face. And everyone could see it. Everyone, but not You. Very good. That is the way it was supposed to be.

One day Martha told me, that she was amused by your curiosity about her. I mean, her boyfriend. Maybe she wanted me to think that you were jealous about her? I don’t know. And I won’t know. And that’s from where I got convinced that she was your loved one.
And maybe ‘twas Monique? She was prettier than me, I know. Every girl is. Maybe… except of Alexandra. But it is terrible to talk about a classmate in this way. Let’s say it this way. I wasn’t enough pretty, to encourage You. I know it. I could only dream about being a beauty. Monique has got a pretty face, big eyes and beautiful smile. She is so feminine! And I am so weird and odd.
You were sickly interested about Nathalie. I could bear stupid Monique (maybe I ain’t as pretty as she is, but I am much clever than she is). But Nathalie? I am not in charge to judge her intelligence, but… she belongs to rather stupid ones, doesn’t she?
And there are hundreds of millions of other girls. Maybe, Jeannie, my best friend? I don’t know. And I would prefer to not know, even if I am dying to. But this would hurt.

I am thinking about you non stop. Now, I am aware, that I am crazy about You. I’ve always had an impression that I know You better than others. But, one more time I am too conceited.

Please, no offence, but I didn’t begin to like You because of your appearance. You enchanted me by your character, charms, eloquence and sense of humor… and you are intelligent. What fascinated me the most about you, were Your eyes and hands. You had gorgeous hands. Like a sophisticated pianist. There, I took a glance at my hands. They weren’t pretty. Fat. Never mind.

Every night I dreamed about You, You know? I fantasized about walking with You, holding Your hand. And about how it is to be with Tou. How it is to hug Tou.

So believe. With my best friends, I think that You’re one of the most intelligent person I’ve ever known.

I also liked, when You helped your friend with one chemistry task. I never valued your friendship with him. But now, I know. It is beautiful (Good Lord, I sound like an idotic romantic!)

I never understood, why anyone never liked to declare about his/her love to his/her family. I declared my love to my family really often. You know, it was enough. Three words “I love you”, and whole world seemed to be such a beautiful place. Really.

I dreamed to hear those words from You. From Your lips. Romantic whisper. Naw, that’s going too far! No, maybe not romantic and maybe not whisper, but to hear whose words from You. And to answer with „I love you too”. But it won’t ever happen. You never liked me.

It hurt me. Hurt like helluva. Not even, that you didn’t like me, you prefered other girls and it also pained me. But now… when I look at myself, I understand it. I am nothing special. But you enchanted me. See, what you are capable to do?

Now, when I wrote it… no, I don’t feel lighter. I feel… rather heavy. No, not in throat. In my stomach. I’ve alwyas hoped, that maybe…. Maybe I am not impassive to You. Maybe I can count at least as a classmate? Maybe…?

But, jut one look and I know. I know, that it won’t ever happen. So, I’ll write to You… that…
I think that I love You.
But I’m not sure.

So, best wishes,

Charmed by You

PS Letter came out more about you, than about me.
PPS if you had read it - and chances are hard perticible – I must thank you. You can’t imagine how terribly I feel, when I write this. Good Lord, I am crying! And in background it’s Strauss coming out of my CD Player. What an irony. I named you in my mind Strauss. No one in my surroundings liked him. Only me. So, I thought The name fits. Else, You would prefer Mozart, Bach, Chopin, Rossini, Wagner, STRAUSS, Schiller, Barhms, Haydn, Tchaikovsky or even Debussy? Nope. And Strauss is melodious.

Description
A/N: so, here it is. Another submission. Geez, it sucks! Anyway, if you can, please don't read it. It sux. Really.

Disclaimer: It's whole my idea. And keep your dirty hands away!

- - - -

Hi,

I know, that a letter should begin with questions. How is addressee feeling, etc., etc, but this letter will be only ’bout me. I won’t be angry on You, if You won’t read it. I myself, seeing this letter would throw it immediately to the rubbish bin. But, maybe You won’t? Naw, You would throw it away. What am I to You? Nothing. Very good. At least, I would vanish You from my had.

So, you already know, what’s going on. I never had enough courage to send to You this letter. It would come out, that You’d never liked me (which is obvious) and, that I have some idiotic obsession about You. At school I had to pretend that I don’t like You. I was afraid. I didn’t want anybody to learn about it, and the worst thing could ever happen would be, that You would discover it. It would be horrible. And now, when my mother not on purpose read it, I had nearly cried. Fortunately, my friend sent me a short message and I got a grip of myself.

Returning to me (this is a little bit egoistic, but You’re not reading, right?). I couldn’t for goodness sake ever let you know about my feelings. You never liked me this way. It would get not nice and confusion from both sides and we would never joke and tease each other. Like friends. But I couldn’t even be Your friend.

Like me? Hah, very, very funny. Impossible. It would be a degradation, wouldn’t it?

I was always jealous. Not about this, that you liked someone else (Nathalie, Monique, Martha, Makumba or Katie?). I was jealous that You teased every single girl. You can’t even imagine how much jealousy was written on my face. And everyone could see it. Everyone, but not You. Very good. That is the way it was supposed to be.

One day Martha told me, that she was amused by your curiosity about her. I mean, her boyfriend. Maybe she wanted me to think that you were jealous about her? I don’t know. And I won’t know. And that’s from where I got convinced that she was your loved one.
And maybe ‘twas Monique? She was prettier than me, I know. Every girl is. Maybe… except of Alexandra. But it is terrible to talk about a classmate in this way. Let’s say it this way. I wasn’t enough pretty, to encourage You. I know it. I could only dream about being a beauty. Monique has got a pretty face, big eyes and beautiful smile. She is so feminine! And I am so weird and odd.
You were sickly interested about Nathalie. I could bear stupid Monique (maybe I ain’t as pretty as she is, but I am much clever than she is). But Nathalie? I am not in charge to judge her intelligence, but… she belongs to rather stupid ones, doesn’t she?
And there are hundreds of millions of other girls. Maybe, Jeannie, my best friend? I don’t know. And I would prefer to not know, even if I am dying to. But this would hurt.

I am thinking about you non stop. Now, I am aware, that I am crazy about You. I’ve always had an impression that I know You better than others. But, one more time I am too conceited.

Please, no offence, but I didn’t begin to like You because of your appearance. You enchanted me by your character, charms, eloquence and sense of humor… and you are intelligent. What fascinated me the most about you, were Your eyes and hands. You had gorgeous hands. Like a sophisticated pianist. There, I took a glance at my hands. They weren’t pretty. Fat. Never mind.

Every night I dreamed about You, You know? I fantasized about walking with You, holding Your hand. And about how it is to be with Tou. How it is to hug Tou.

So believe. With my best friends, I think that You’re one of the most intelligent person I’ve ever known.

I also liked, when You helped your friend with one chemistry task. I never valued your friendship with him. But now, I know. It is beautiful (Good Lord, I sound like an idotic romantic!)

I never understood, why anyone never liked to declare about his/her love to his/her family. I declared my love to my family really often. You know, it was enough. Three words “I love you”, and whole world seemed to be such a beautiful place. Really.

I dreamed to hear those words from You. From Your lips. Romantic whisper. Naw, that’s going too far! No, maybe not romantic and maybe not whisper, but to hear whose words from You. And to answer with „I love you too”. But it won’t ever happen. You never liked me.

It hurt me. Hurt like helluva. Not even, that you didn’t like me, you prefered other girls and it also pained me. But now… when I look at myself, I understand it. I am nothing special. But you enchanted me. See, what you are capable to do?

Now, when I wrote it… no, I don’t feel lighter. I feel… rather heavy. No, not in throat. In my stomach. I’ve alwyas hoped, that maybe…. Maybe I am not impassive to You. Maybe I can count at least as a classmate? Maybe…?

But, jut one look and I know. I know, that it won’t ever happen. So, I’ll write to You… that…
I think that I love You.
But I’m not sure.

So, best wishes,

Charmed by You

PS Letter came out more about you, than about me.
PPS if you had read it - and chances are hard perticible – I must thank you. You can’t imagine how terribly I feel, when I write this. Good Lord, I am crying! And in background it’s Strauss coming out of my CD Player. What an irony. I named you in my mind Strauss. No one in my surroundings liked him. Only me. So, I thought The name fits. Else, You would prefer Mozart, Bach, Chopin, Rossini, Wagner, STRAUSS, Schiller, Barhms, Haydn, Tchaikovsky or even Debussy? Nope. And Strauss is melodious.