So I kept mulling over my letter to Anonymous Crush, and it came to me that I would not be satisfied until I told him personally. Now, unless you’re avoidant like me, you might not realize what a step this was. I have never in my life told someone I was in love with him because of the inevitable rejection. But I did even though I knew he wouldn’t be interested, because it was burning me up inside. He could’ve been mean about it, told me I made him projectile vomit, or that I was too dumb to find my way out of a Dollar Store plastic bag, but he didn’t. Instead, he ignored me and won’t talk to me at all. I think he told me why he won’t speak to me in a Tweet today. I guess I deserve it. I should’ve bottled it up, as I’ve always done. Nothing will ever change for someone like me.
Am I sorry I told him? Yes and no, Yes, because I feel more alone now than I did before. No, because I proved to myself I actually could ‘fess up like a normal person, and maybe it will serve him well somehow. I imagine, though, he could do far better, and gets other hussies throwing themselves at him. It is what it is.
Not that it matters even if you were to believe me, but yes, I am in love with you. If I had the chance to be with anyone on the planet, it would be you. Even if you are kind of sexist and a Trumper…I’m sure you have your reasons, especially for the former thing. I’d listen to you, even if it would be a snow day in a hell full of Rush Limbaughs before I could see myself feeling nothing but contempt for Trump and a tiny bit of pity.
I’ve always thought highly of you, but never allowed myself to go there until she left. It hit me like bricks, then. I try to hide it, pretend it’s platonic love, because I know you would reject me. And then when you were so kind to me on Thanksgiving, I knew there was no going back.
I’m assuming there’s a good 60 or more IQ point advantage over my paltry 96 IQ, but I’m fascinated how much brilliance and talent are in one vessel of humanity.
I’m in no way a positive to you: Irksome, dim, childish, a poser at writing, too avoidant, and ugly. But, unlike beautiful people, I have enough capacity within me to love you deeply. I’d be willing to be just your friend if you would let me. I want to be with you in any capacity you would let me.