So I got an answer, finally. It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was certainly the answer I expected, and, honestly, the only answer I deserved. It was an answer to a question so obvious there was really no reason for it to have been asked in the first place. I let my inner self take over, the girl-hungry hormonal middle schooler that I think I’ll always be, on the inside.
That in and of itself was not enough to spur an emotion from me. I’ve been left with my heart in shambles so many times before that it ceases to faze me anymore. It was a flight of fancy on my part, that really didn’t have any basis in reality, rather, it was the fabrication of my delusions of amor, as it were.
You didn’t come onto me. I just have this bad habit of falling in love with any girl that pays me the slightest bit of attention. It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry about “leading me on,” even though everyone I talked to thought you were doing exactly that.
No, the reason I penned this little letter (that you’ll probably never read) is because I didn’t even get the answer from you. Of course, that’s probably because I never asked the question to you, but rather everyone around me, but honestly, I could’ve used a response from you.
“She’s so sorry!” your friend said. If you’re so sorry, then why don’t you give returning my phone calls a try one time? None of this trying to contact you for 2 weeks, then getting a fucking pity-fest text message saying that you’re “really busy” and “so sorry for not calling me.” I’m tired of it. One of these days, I’d like to actually sit down and talk with you, but it seems that it may never happen.

I’m going to stop right now to reassure you that, yes, I still want to be your friend. The main reason I never told you was that I was afraid you’d be too freaked out to continue the friendship. All in all, loving you as a friend is better than no love at all. Much better.

But I digress. I just can’t believe that you didn’t see right through it from the beginning. All of the bulletins didn’t tell you anything? Because they sure as hell told everyone else, including one person neither of us have talked to for a good period of time who completely called my “bluff” from a mile away. Maybe I should have held your hand during the movie. Maybe I should have put my arm around you while we were walking through the Plaza. Maybe I should have jumped out of the car that night as you were punching in your garage door code, standing out there, looking so lonely; I should have gotten out and thrown a big kiss right on your lips. Then, perhaps, I would have gotten my answer, and I wouldn’t be living in a personal hell for the past month (though it seems like much longer).

All in all, I just want to make everything better. I want to talk to you. I want to hang out again, sometime. That is, unless you think I’ve “CORRUPTED OUR FRIENDSHIP” too much. It really was all my fault. I don’t want to sound too apologetic, because I do that all too often, especially when it’s not my fault. But at this point, it is my fault. Other than the whole “not calling me ever” thing, you have nothing about which to apologize.

Anyway, this month has been good for me, and I was able to once again prove to myself that I 1) can still feel feelings, and 2) never learn from my past mistakes. Not to mention you’ve been wonderful inspiration for some really bad poetry (you can totally see my “collection” if you think you’re up to it).

No hard feelings? No hard feelings. No hard feelings!

Just call me soon whenever you feel like it.

Love (but only in a friendly way),
Bradley Tyler Davis