you.

Dear Kyle,

Yes, I am going to use your real name, because let's face it, the only people that read this are friends who know who you truly are, so get over it. You don't even read this, or I hope you don't, to tell you the truth, I couldn't even care less.

Kyle, I see you in the halls every single day. I hate it. The first couple weeks of school, I loved seeing you in the hall. I wanted to make you hate me, yet want me at the same time. I don't like to say it, but I think that is partially why I held hands with a certain kid at school. To make you hate me. I hope that you hated me, because I surely hated you. Do you understand you were my best friend? You know everything about me, from what color I absolutely despise, down to where I used to sit when I would talk to you (yellow and the closet, fyi). I trusted you, so so much, you knew that didn't you? You knew that if you asked me to do something, I would do it. Crazy how that works, but for whatever reason it does. When I meet someone who went to Timberline with you, I casually bring up your name and ask them what they think about you. I have met kids who think you have great pecks, I met a kid who wouldn't talk about you, one girl, whom you sat next to in math, told me what you talked about.

Isn't this crazy?

To tell you the truth, I thought you were "the one".

Isn't it crazy that we don't talk to each other anymore?

I talked to you almost every minute of everyday for six months straight.

Don't you feel out of place when I walk by and I'm happy?

Yes Kyle, I am happy now.

What went through your brain when you said those things to me? I've always wondered.

So please, tell me. When did you just decide to make me feel like crap?

One night, were you laying in your bed, thinking, and all of the sudden a thought popped into your head? Did you have it all planned out? Do you even understand what harm you did to me?

You did a lot, by the way.

I had a dream about you a couple of nights ago.

You were standing on the side of the road, just standing.

I would drive by, back and forth, back and forth. And every time I would drive past you, I would flip you off.

Do you have dreams about me like that too?

I don't hate you Kyle.

I just feel bad for you.

I feel bad that you have such a low self-esteem that you would have to hurt someone else to make yourself feel better.

I feel bad that you don't treat your parents with respect.

I feel bad that you only have a limited amount of friends.

I feel bad that you have dug a hole so deep that it is a long way to the top.

I feel bad that you don't have me as a friend.

I feel bad that you don't have the knowledge to know how, when, and why things went wrong between us.

I feel bad that you think you have changed.

How many times have we tried to be friends after we stopped talking in August?

3? 6? 10?

My guess is 9.

Every time we would try to be friends, drama got in the way.

One thing or another thing that didn't mean anything was blown up into this huge deal. I hate that.

We could have been great. You were my type. I was yours. You were my best friend. But, that is where we differ. You say I was yours, but I know I wasn't.

Would you say those sort of things to your best friend?

Honestly, would you go up to Quinn, and say what you said to me?

Over and over? My guess is no. You say that you have changed, but really, I don't see it. You are still the same boy that I met in fifth grade.

Please understand that this is just me typing down random thoughts. Random thoughts that come into my head every time I see you driving. Don't take this as a hate letter. Take this as a "Sam doesn't understand you, and wants you to understand her without actually having to interact with you letter."

Much anger and sadness,

Sam

ps. I blocked your phone number. I didn't want you to text me, only so that I could be wrapped up in a web of who knows what. sorry. (: