Dear Tristan,
I'm kind of mad at you now. It's nice to hear your voice, though I couldn't understand what you were saying. I am not sure if I should tell you or not. Why couldn't you say something in English like all the other guys? I'm not sure if I understand you as much as I thought I did.
I've decided I'm not going to tell you I like you, I don't think you feel the same way. I guess that's why I'm mad at you. You never reply to me on a consistent basis and I just get this feeling that you don't pay much attention to what I write to you. Plus, you called another girl hot. How come you never called me hot? How come you never compliment me? God, I already sound like your girlfriend, or at least like a little bitch or maybe a big one, whatever.
I kind of wish you would tell me I'm pretty. I really care about you and I've tried to hint that to you, whether you know or not is beyond me. I just want an answer as to whether you care about me at all. I doubt you do. I feel stupid for writing this, but I asked for a digital camera for Christmas partly because of you. I wanted to take a picture of myself and put it up. I even displayed it once, I wanted you to tell me that you think I'm pretty. I don't think you'll ever be attracted to me though, that never happens with guys I like.
I look like a little kid, and I bet you think I am one. I wish I could smoke, not because I like it, but just to look older. I know you hate smoking though, but I'm tired of looking like a kid. I bet you wouldn't go out with a girl who looks like a kid, I bet that's one of the reasons you don't think I'm pretty. I bet it's the glasses, too. I just wear them because I'm nearsighted, it's not like I like them or anything. I hate contacts, but if you want, I'll get them. I would do so much for you it's stupid, it makes me feel stupid. I probably am stupid.
Is it my hair? I can color it. Is it my eyes? I can put in colored contacts. Is it my skin color? I can use a fake tanner. Is it the shape of my face? I can get plastic surgery. I probably wouldn't do that last one though. Still, I would do so much for you, just to have you tell me I'm pretty. I don't know why, but hearing it from you would mean so much to me. I want you to like me, but I'm not sure that's possible. I don't want to tell you because of that.
It freaks me out how much your opinion matters to me. I just want to know what you think of me, to know if I have any chance at all. Not that I really do anyway, but it would just be nice for a guy like you to like a girl like me, even though there is a big old ocean between us. That girl lives even further away! I honestly don't think she's that pretty. I bet she is more punk than I am. I probably am not punk at all. I wish I could be a punk, I would try to be for you, if you'd tell me how.
I just felt the need to write you this, you'll never read it, but still. I am mad at you and I needed to let you know. Bye.-Kate
<< Tuesday, Feb. 27, 2007@6:27 p.m.>>