Dear David,

When you didn't show up that day after my softball practice, I finally realized how badly I ruined our friendship. You were always there. You always walked me home. I wasn't too suprised though, seeing how I acted earlier. I just figured out of habit you'd wait. And you were always so nice that I thought you'd at least wait and ask me if I wanted to still walk home. I would have said no, and you would have walked away.

Jealousy is a crazy thing. It's a whole new feeling for me, you see. And I'm sorry, really sorry, that I took it the wrong way. I've seen girls glare at guys when they walk by, friends and all, and when they pass look longingly at them. I never got that, but now I do. It's foreign, odd the way I feel toward Her and how angry I feel toward you.

I'm sorry, David, that I didn't control myself. I'm sorry that I kicked and screamed, sorry that I pushed you and swore at you, I'm sorry that I ignored you and then told you to go die and screw off. And I'm sorry, so, so sorry, that I cried. I know how much you hate that. Remember the day when you were walking with me? The sun was shining down at our sweaty bodies from our sports and we were talking about tears.

"You know, I've never seen you cry," I said to you.

"Guys don't cry," you answered, all macho, back.

"Well I don't either," I replied.

You ponders this. "You know," you said, "I've really never seen you cry."
"Never gonna."
You look in my eyes, is that a flash of something I see? "I hope not. I'd hate to see you cry."

And I'm sorry that I didn't realize how badly I was crying until the tears were already down my cheeks and onto the floor. I'm sorry I didn't run away to shield your eyes and I'm sorry that I couldn't stop. I was bawling and you had to see tough Julie cry and you had to watch. But I had a broken heart, you see. You turned me down flat, after years and years of knowing each other. After summers and school weeks and weekends. After smiles and laughs and our warm skin brushing against eachother from time to time and I could have swarm I saw your heart leap.
I'm sorry that I wanted more. Just friends. That's how you phrased it. Let's be just friends, it's better that way. And you told me that you had Her and that you were really very happy with Her and that you think you might actually love Her. I'm sorry for all the times I said I didn't believe in love.

I'm sorry that I was never good enough for you. Never pretty enough, never skinny enough, never smart enough. I'm sorry that you had to say no. I'm really very sorry that we could have been, in a separate universe and in a perfect world, when our paths crossed, we could have had a chance. And I'm sorry that are beautiful friendship is torn up now because of me.
I don't blame you for much, though. It isn't your fault I liked you that way. It's not your fault it was too late for me to tell you how I felt, and that you already found another girl to hug and kiss and tell secrets and lies to. She fits in your arms like a glove, you know. And She really is a beautiful girl. I do blame you for not giving us a chance though. There could have been something there. We'll never find out.
I'm really happy you found someone to love. I'm happy that I'm not going to that formal, so you don't have to see me in some stupid dress, and that you don't have to avoid me all night long. I'm happy knowing that I'll be watching re-runs of NCIS while you slow dance with Her. I know She'll look really pretty in that dress, and so will the flowers you give her, and so will your good-bye kiss.
I'm sorry I liked you.
I'm sorry I'm not perfect enough for you.
I'm sorry we have to walk down the halls everyday with our heads down because we don't want to see eachother.

I'm sorry that we'll never have a chance.









Love, Julie.