FictionRandomShort Stories

To That One Boy who, I Thought, Loved Me

My baby is cute, isn’t he? ^^

I just watched “To all the boys I’ve loved before” movie. It’s nice. Well, to be honest, I had this scenario in my head, where I was kinda like Lara Jean Covey (sorry for my audacity🙏), even before I watched this movie. What I meant by “was like LJC” was the fact that in my imagination, I would be able to be honest like that, talking matter-of-factly, thinking there is no string attached anyway, this guy doesn’t love me, and then having him end up falling in love with me, like the true me. Yeah, I had that fantasy even before I watched this movie. I cannot prove it so you can choose to believe me or not, it doesn’t really matter.

However, watching this movie, I was kinda thinking, should I write a letter like that too? I mean, I have always been talking in my head. Sometimes it kinda inspires me to write some fictions, in which I can fantasize, dramatize, and develop the story there. So if you read my fictions, some bits might be real (though not everything is always about me per see), but of course not all of the pieces. But, if I were to write a letter to my past crushes, (did I have any?), maybe it would turn out to be something like this:

To all the boys I loved before, I was never sure if I really liked you or not, that’s why I never told you. Sincerely.

Probably it would sound something like that. I can never be sure of my own feelings when it comes to love. That’s why I need someone to convince me. In the future, I want my man to convince me that he loves me and that I love him too. I know it will be troublesome, but I really need him to do that. I don’t know how either, so I can’t really tell…

But, oh, if I were to write such a letter, it would be for someone that I thought liked me back then. I can’t tell you who, when, or where. I just thought that, even though the probability is small but, if he reads this, maybe he’ll know that I’m writing this to him. If he reads but doesn’t realize it, then it proves that nothing actually happened. And if he reads and realizes that I’m writing to him but pretends to not know it and chooses to ignore it, then I’ll know that it’s all over. And if he doesn’t read it, well, at least I can get it off my chest. Hence, here’s the letter.

Dear you,
Some years ago, some friends told me that you liked me. I couldn’t believe it at first. I thought they must have been joking. I was happy, though. I thought, “So I can be likable too? As a girl? As I am?” For the first time in forever, I gained confidence and felt beautiful about myself. I always thought that no guys in their right mind would ever like me that way. I didn’t think I was pretty. I wasn’t fashionable either. I was quite conservative too. And people said I was way too serious. And then my family…my parents were “uneducated.” I came from a suburb. I always put myself as someone coming from a low social class. I think I had come to terms with all of that. I thought there was nothing I could do about it anyway. So if nobody liked me, I guess there was no helping it.

That’s why when they told me you liked me, I was happy. I wished it was true. I wanted to believe it was true. Or perhaps, I foolishly believed it was true, that’s why I felt happy. That’s why I came to be confident and feel beautiful about myself. I still don’t know if what they told me was true since you never told me yourself, but for that, for making me feel pretty about myself, I would love to thank you. Thank you.

Yes, you never told me how you felt, so I kept wondering. I’m still wondering… I had never had the courage to ask you either, so I can never be sure. I thought it would be weird if I suddenly came to you and asked you about it. I guess it would be too embarrassing for me. I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself. And I guess it would be too late, not to mention weirder, if I asked you now, right? Especially after all these years we didn’t really keep in touch. You would think I am talking nonsense. But then, even if I had the courage to do all of that, back then or even now, then what? I can never answer this question… And perhaps you have this same “then what?” question too, that’s why, supposed what they told me was true, i.e. that you liked me, you never thought of telling me in person. And sometimes, I thought, even if I asked you and you said it was true, how would I know that you weren’t lying? How would I know that you did that only to save my face or my feelings? So I guess it doesn’t matter, ’cause I’ll find it hard to believe anyway. But maybe, I’m more scared to hear that it’s not true at all. Perhaps, I want to linger on that possibility, no matter how tiny, that perhaps it was true that you liked me… Even if you stopped liking me and don’t like me anymore, at least it happened for a short time. Maybe I want to hang onto that possibility that there was this side of me that someone could like…

But anyway, I was happy. I really tried to find a sign if it was true. Sometimes I thought I saw it in you but of course, I convinced myself that I was wrong. You were just so cold that the possibility that you liked me was almost zero. And I got upset. Maybe I wasn’t upset at you. I was upset at the fact that you didn’t actually like me. Or perhaps if you had liked me, you didn’t anymore. Maybe I was sad because I had to face reality again: no guys would like me that way. My confidence shrank again. And while I remained feeling beautiful about myself, I started feeling ugly about my personality. I thought, perhaps that’s what kept people away from me. But again, I couldn’t help it.

So, mm, remember that night? When I made a fuss about you unfollowing me on Instagram? I want to apologize for that. I know I was so childish. At that time, I was messed up. I guess I hated the feeling of losing someone who I thought liked me. I couldn’t accept the fact that you might have started hating me. You must have hated me back then. I am truly sorry. And then you followed me again. I was feeling uneasy. Now every time I see you saw my Instagram story, I can’t help wondering, “Does he actually want to unfollow me but maybe he’s worried I’d make a big deal about it again?” It makes me feel so bad. I know I have written about this on Instagram, in one of my captions. But I know I post a lot if not too many, so maybe you missed it. Perhaps you skipped it. Or perhaps you just don’t care about it. But if you somehow miraculously read this post, I want to tell you this: If you actually want to unfollow me, please feel free to do so. I won’t make a fuss anymore. I won’t ask you why either. I will take it as your answer to what I’ve been wondering all these times. I’ll take it that you simply don’t like me, and even if you did back then, I’ll take it that you don’t anymore. But, oh, if you still want to follow me, that’s okay too. I don’t know, maybe you’re interested in the pics I post? You’ve never really liked or commented on them, though…

And, by the way, there’s something else I want to apologize for. I just remembered this. I’m sorry for problematizing your final group presentation back then. I asked too many questions, I guess? Or maybe only one question, but I was never satisfied with the answer? I should’ve left it at that. Really sorry. I don’t know if I was genuinely asking. But to think back of it now, perhaps I was also trying to get your attention. Perhaps I was trying to show that I was smart? I don’t know. How stupid of me. Sigh. But, really, I am sorry.

And, ugh, you might hate me for writing this part, but, I really am not sure if I like you or not, so I can’t say. (Though logically, why would I bother writing all of these if I didn’t?) However, I believe that you are a good guy. It was short, that feeling of being loved because my friends told me that you liked me. But I was really happy. I was really thankful for that. Perhaps I should thank them, instead? I don’t know. But I hope you can find a good girl to marry. Or if you’re actually gay, (sorry, but I have to include this possibility 🙏✌️), I hope you find someone who can make you happy, someone you can be happy with 🙂

I genuinely wish you all the best.

Sincerely,
Me

Well, since I wrote about sending postcards, I guess I can post a pic of some postcards I have. Wanna one?

But, like, ugh, don’t judge me. I kinda have an idea already, like, I think I can develop this fiction into a series of short stories already. Should I write it here? Or should I post it in storial or maybe Wattpad? Hmm I mean, I can make him reply to this blog in private. Perhaps contacting me by private message on Instagram, asking for my address, and pretending to send me a postcard in return for a postcard I once sent him? Then, he’ll send me an anonymous letter – typed not handwritten – answering my letter above? Then I will write another response in my blog for him to read (’cause the letter is anonymous, right? So even though I kinda am smart enough to guess it’s him, I can’t really be sure who the sender is. LoL). Then we’ll keep corresponding, me with my blog posts, and him with his anonymous letters. LoL And maybe I can make a plot twist, in which the guy I was originally writing this post to was actually not the same guy who’s been sending me the letter. Hmm Interesting. Hahaha And if I want to turn it into some creepy and thriller version, then I can make the guy be some kind of psychopath. Oh, my. See? I’ve got a lot of these kinds of scenarios in my head. If only all those fictional ideas could write themselves, I guess I’d have published a lot of short stories or even novels. LoL But, ugh, of course all those things do not happen. I guess it will remain in my fantasy and imagination? My reality is really a different kind of reality. But I hope the parallel universe really exists so a different me can explore different things there 🙂 Yeah, I know. It sucks to think that I have to hope for an alternate reality for all of these to happen there, when I can actually try and make efforts to actualize and realize them all here, but, oh, well, I guess I’m such a coward. I love to play it safe. So at the meantime, I’ll let all these lovey-dovey stories remain fictional. Perhaps it’ll be more beautiful that way 🙂

But then, ugh, maybe I should write such letters? Maybe to some friends I can’t really tell in person? I mean, it doesn’t always have to be romantic relationship, right? But, gosh. Sorry, I think I’m going crazy, so I guess that’s it for now. Bye 🙂

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