I know I might have been the last person you expect to receive this letter from. And that also in a hard paper format, which everyone abandoned a decade back. But then I am someone from past after all. So here I am, doing it right finally.
I went through your Facebook updates and the photos that you’re tagged in. You seem to be doing a pretty good job, mister. You are on a roller coaster in fact, with pretty faces around you. Do not call me a stalker on your profile now. I just happen to stumble upon it every once in a while. The point being, I had always known you looking at me secretly…taking a deep breath before coming over and asking me for notes you very well knew I did not have…And yes I equally hated that bitch I used to hang out with who told everyone that you liked me. You remember chemistry lab? And that one practical we both did together? I still laugh when I recall you telling me about Helium & Argon at length instead of complimenting me on my looks which you had been doing anyway in your head. But it was fun. And I liked how you did your hair, those spikes eh!
I am writing to you today because I always did like you, boy. I secretly hoped it was you who asked me out and not the ass-so called sports hero of our high school. I secretly hope that you were still noticing me even today, talking to your best pal about me and tell me that you like me. But I know you do not. You now know what is right, unlike most of us.
I am like rest of the school who went with the flow and chased the dreams they told us to. But you are special. And that is all I wish to tell you. You already know that you deserved more than me and there was a reason why you chose to be with your friend on the last day of high school, instead of coming to me and letting me know about your feeling as you had planned. The reason being, you had bigger things waiting for you ahead.
So keep flying high, champ. Do not give up. And do not think of time traveling back and changing it all. The courage that you have earned is for better things. And you’re very close to achieving what you want.
Me? I am happy living as a naive teenage memory in your heart; I am just a high school sweetheart. Keep it like that!
19th Sept 2004.
P.S. (That chocolate box you received on your desk in final year? Yes, it was me)