Oh, my dear, lovely, not-so-funny, Chandler Bing! I miss you so very much…
Shit. Wait. Wasn’t I supposed to address this letter’s first line to you? Specifically, in a formal way? I know I am a sucky writer, but I’ll write for you anyway. Sorry. I’ve written this with Parker and I don’t want to use white ink over it. So, let it be.
Anyway, Wow! It feels so good to imagine you smiling while reading my letter. I have to admit, it really was a good idea to write letters. After reading your first letter, I thought to myself, ‘I made a good choice’. Although on a second thought, you never were ‘a choice’. Somewhere, deep down, I knew it’d be you. If I could choose to be with anyone in this world, I’d still choose you. Your presence is intoxicating. In your letter’s first line, you say that you remember how we first met.
You know what though? I have a little secret here.. that you don’t know of!
Mr. Junior, how come you ignore the fact that the seniors can stalk their juniors too?
Yes, you guessed it right.
I was stalking you through your blog, on Facebook, and in school, and all of this without you ever knowing. Whoa! I’m actually a good stalker.
I had fallen for your charm long ago, before you even made me fall for your words. The more I stalked you, the prettier your heart appeared, to me. And, I was in love with you; obviously, without much knowledge of when, where and how.
I know, you’d say we were friends. But Baby, maybe I wasn’t. Now I think of it and find it amusing, just how close I was to you. In my heart, maybe I was in this relationship from the very start; not consciously, but subconsciously. Who knows!
You are a flirt. I know. You can flirt with anyone. And, you do flirt with everyone. Whenever you flirted with me, you pushed me to think seriously. That’s your trick. I volunteered.
I always thought, we wouldn’t work together. I always thought. I even talked to you about it a few times, and you ignored my silly words with your sarcastic and even funnier jokes, every time. But hey, look, we are together and we are doing just fine. We are awesome. (I’m awesome and you’re pathetic. But in this case, I want you to have some credit too.) I am sharing my awesomeness. Wow. That’s so un-me. See, that’s why I asked you not to compel me write something, I knew I’d end up writing about myself, than to you.
I was writing about us, I remember. Somehow I had convinced myself that ‘us’ might not work. Me and you, we seemed unlikely.
I am glad I was wrong.
Like you said once,
“Princess Consuela, always remember this- you’re a lock and I’m the key. Together we demonstrate the lock-key hypothesis. Together we make all the biological processes work.”
People say, “Never fall in love with a writer.” Now I know why they say so. My words may not impress you, but I am sure that my efforts will.
Ugh. I have written too much. I know you deserve more. But, maybe I’m saving the rest for future?
Oops. I know ‘future’ freaks you out. Sorry.
You know, I made a promise to myself; I’ll not change a thing once it’s written here. I am puking out my emotions. I wonder if I have already done enough damage here.
But I know you. I know how much you’re gonna appreciate my letter. I know the tiny smile you’ll have on your face when you will re-read it in the future. Can I conclude, now? I’ll try my best to surprise you with my writing, the way you do. I’m gonna fail, but I’ll still try. You are worth the try.
You truly are the key, to my soul, to my heart, to my hidden madness. I am glad you’re with me. I am glad we are together. I love you, Crap Bag.
Yours, Princess Consuela.