unsent letters (2)

Hey pretty boy,

Your friends still make fun of me online. I try to ignore them but they have been everywhere. Telling you this appears pointless. You deleted all your social media the moment you graduated high school and that would’ve been years ago. At least you wouldn’t be seeing the TikTok videos your little buddies post online. They seem to be the most affected by our fallout compared to the both of us, I don’t even know where to stand. Defending myself looks even more pointless. Being with you, I learned that explaining myself to avoid misunderstandings serves no purpose when the other ears are closed. I have always been scared to get close to you, terrified to even let someone know I had thoughts about getting close to you. Our town is a small one. Rumours spread faster than lightning with the mother’s mouths running faster than the Flash itself. If they had known you were dating a much younger girl; an Asian girl, who just immigrated into the country, and does not basically belong in any table you sat at, you’d be in ruins. However you, on the other hand, did not give a single fuck. You picked me up in your black sedan everyday for everyone to see, you held my hand at church every Sunday, and even attended a Christmas party with about 50 or so people of my colour in it. I swear the loud mouths had a field trip the next day. You never cared about the harsh words and the lingering comments that you’d get because of me. You tried protecting me from them but words cut me open as easy as a newly sharpened knife would cut a mere paper. I frowned whenever someone called me a gold digger, a white man’s whore, or a green card hunter. I cried when someone called you a paedophile, sobbed in silence when your friend from college jokingly asked you what it's like coming inside a child. I started to hate the other people’s perception of me. I never liked unwanted attention but getting close to you meant getting lots of them. Not in a sense where you’re being treated as a celebrity but you played for a national junior hockey team. The town itself and our neighbouring ones know you and your last name. You were intimidating but you were also alluring, tempting me in every place we ran into. I’d list more ways on how we got close to each other but everything I do these days just seems futile. I’m hitting rock bottom once more. Now, I’m trying to face it all alone. Just like what I had done before you and maybe, for the most part, while being with you.

On days like these, I wish you weren’t as popular as you are. Maybe then, people would see me less of a threat and more of a person. My hair's been the same length for a couple weeks now. I hope one day I wake up and notice it's suddenly 3 inches longer; 3 inches better.
Have the day you deserve, pretty boy.