We've had a rough few years haven't we? Not that I'm complaining (too much) because I love you being in my life. There are so many things I wish I could do and say to you and I know I write you a lot of letters. You like them, thankfully or this would be quite the embarrassing situation I'm in.
Four years. We met four years ago all because of that day in the cafeteria freshman year. You were just sitting there, being a normal person but that hoodie. You know I love Stitch so when I saw that hoodie, I pointed to my sister and said, "That's my future husband right there." Then, of course, my sister snatched you into her tight little friend grip and that meant dragging me into your life. Do you remember all those notes I wrote to you? Well believe it or not I'm not usually that shy. But god, you were (and still are) so handsome. Just looking at your face made my heart stutter. So because i couldn't say a damn word, i wrote you notes. And you liked it so I haven't stopped, even though they aren't physical anymore.
That whole time though, we weren't together. i was just crushing hard for you but you had a significant other so I knew nothing would happen between us.
Jump forward two years, you moved. I was absolutely devastated to the point that I cried. Not little tears either. I felt wrecked. It felt like my other half was gone. Absurd, i know. But that's what being in love will do to you.
We made it work. We talked every single day we could. We grew closer (I think). We still had a lot of ups and downs but those were nothing compared to the news you gave me just a summer later. You didn't want me. Ouch. I was also a wreck because of that. It felt like all my fears of just being used for my body, of no one caring about me, about my emotions, were true. I was so mad at you for that.But I still loved you. You didn't want to hurt me for fear of losing me but, love, I'm so head over boots for you that you could take that sexy knife and shove it in my throat, rip out my vocal chords, and i would still love you. (And you'd look so hot doing it.) But that's beside the point. It felt like a betrayal after everything.
Then you wanted me to meet her. And I did. And she's amazing, and sweet, and so kind and beautiful and just a great girl for you. I was jealous. Of course I was jealous. Why did she get to be with you and not me? I felt horrible for thinking that. Yet, my fears and insecurities didn't matter in the end, did they?
A huge plot twist later, I'm yours. I'm hers. She's mine. You're mine. I feel guilty not loving her as much as I love you, but then again I don't know her as well as I know you. I've known you for four years, but her only for a few weeks (months?). Yet I get to have this beautiful fairy tail ending that most poly, genderfluid, pansexual teens don't get. Maybe it won't last, maybe it will. It doesn't matter. I love you. I'm starting to love her. And I am just so damn lucky you two are in my life.
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