"If you've come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little farther."
I have been in love with a girl I discovered in New York City last spring.
She has not been in love with me. Officially. Actually very officially.
And yet I am certain she reads my stories, enjoys and benefits from them, without sharing the love.
Which as of a half hour ago was fine with me. Because I couldn't think of a girl as good as she is to pursue.
But when I wrote about that 8th grade girl I saw when I was a freshman, that was you. You were playing tennis at The Club.
I love tennis. And you looked and still look fuckin' great.
I'm sorry I, without evidence, said you didn't look that good now. From the pictures I found I retract that statement.
We talked at that party in Clarksburg and I don't remember why we didn't hit it off. I think we were both still exploring for ourselves. And I think I messaged you some years ago. But I wasn't ready for you, yet.
Of every woman I remember from school, you have lived the wildest, coolest life. I think I have done the same from my side of the aisle.
So I think we should try it. A date. Phone call. Email. Whatever you want.
I don't know what story I'll write next or to whom. Perhaps to you. Perhaps to her. Perhaps for the female population at large.
I am too fucking awesome to be single. Yet I don't just want somebody. I tried that. Doesn't work You aren't somebody. You're a fixed supernova in my mind. Only girl from high school I'd go out with now.
-Alex