Dear ________,
It's very hard to start this letter, because I hardly know what I want to say. This can be a bit of a problem sometimes. I think part of the problem is that I'm occasionally socially awkward, and you are occasionally socially awkward, and somehow we are always unsure how to react around each other. Because see, I would like to be better friends with you. And I'm pretty sure that you would also like to be better friends with me. But we can never seem to bridge the gap and actually hang out more. And I really like you, as a human being. I truly admire you and respect your opinions as well as your taste in movies. You are smart, and make me laugh. You are one of my favorite people, and have been for two or three years now. I wish we could just be better friends. I think one of the problems is that even though you are socially awkward occasionally, I think you are really cool, and I don't want you to think that I'm strange, and I don't really know how to initiate becoming better friends with someone (I've been lucky with my best friends) and I'm afraid that if I tried, I would appear weird to you. Or my friendly offer to hang out could be construed in a different way, which would lead to awkwardness.
I read your blog (I found it one day, a while ago, when I was looking through your info on facebook, probably to see what your taste in movies was. I swear I'm not a stalker.) And I can see how lonely and sad you are sometimes. I read about how much you are hurting, and how you think that no one cares. And I want to say that I care. That I think you are a fantastic person, that you are deserving of love and acceptance. And I really wish you could be happier, I really want to see you with a brighter outlook on life.
And back when apparently everyone else thought you were a jerk, I still thought you were cool, and when people complained about you to me, I defended you. Because even then I could see how you were hurting, how much you needed someone else on your side, because it seemed like the world was out to get you. Everything was going wrong that spring for you, and I felt bad. It wasn't pity, I don't think, rather it was sympathy. (Why is pity considered bad and sympathy good? They mean basically the same thing) You needed someone to protect you and help you. And I'm only sorry I didn't do more. I'm sorry that I've never told you any of this, that I've never communicated how much I like you as a human being, that I've never offered a helping hand when you needed it. I'm only just starting to realize that although I am used to thinking of myself as selfless and friendly, I've actually been really self-absorbed in my own shyness and introvertedness.
Your friend Hannah
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