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From me, but never to you

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Dear Skip:

I’m writing this letter, even though I know you’ll never read it, because it feels like I’m saying it, and I needed to say it, even if it’ll end up in the bin as soon as I finish. It’s better this way, I think, because I’m not really good with words. I still needed to say it.

I didn’t know I could fall in love with another bloke. Everyone makes such a big deal out of it, I thought I should mention it. It didn’t feel like a big deal, though. I mean, it did, because it was falling in love, and that is always a big deal, but you being a bloke wasn’t, that’s what I mean. I don’t know what that means, about me falling in love with blokes, I mean.

I did, though, I fell in love with you, at first sight, probably.

When I first saw you, I thought you were brilliant, but not in the way everyone else is. I saw you and I found I liked looking at you, just for the sake of looking at you. Not because I thought you looked handsome in your uniform, though I did. More because I liked the way your eyes looked at G-ERTI, and how you looked a bit like a child at Christmas when you gave your first cabin address and said you were the Captain. It gave me a funny feeling in my stomach, and that hasn’t gone away in all the time I’ve known you. I don’t know if that counts as falling in love at first sight, but it was special. I don’t get funny feelings in my stomach when I meet other people.

I know I love you now. I’m sure of that. It’s funny how love can make you really happy, and a bit sad, all at the same time. Sometimes, when we’re talking, or I’m just looking at you, I feel a bit like crying, but it’s not a bad thing! Don’t worry! It’s just I feel so much when you’re around, or when I’m thinking about you, that I feel too small to hold it all inside, and it needs to find a way out.

I think about you a lot. About how skinny you are, and how I wish I could cook better so you wouldn’t mind eating what I cook. I would cook for you all day, and you would never be hungry. Or about how brilliant you can be when you’re not so scared you’ll make a mistake. I wish I could tell you how brilliant you are all the time, so you’d start believing it.

The part that makes me really sad sometimes, is knowing that you couldn’t feel the same way about me. I’m only saying this because you’ll never read it. I wouldn’t tell you, because it isn’t your fault. But sometimes it hurts so bad, and it feels like, if I could just hold you close, it would go away. As I said, I know everyone makes a big deal out of who you like, and it’s fine you only like girls. I suppose you can’t help it any more than I can’t help liking you.

I do know one thing, and that is that we’re friends. Really good friends. Maybe you can’t love me in the way I love you, and I’ll never get to kiss you silly, or run my fingers through your hair, but I do matter to you. I don’t understand why, but I’ve seen how lonely you can be. That doesn’t hurt as much anymore, because that is something I can help you with. I can be there, I have tried to be there, and maybe I am making it a bit better.

If I were to tell you how I really feel, you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore, or at least, it wouldn’t be the same, and I think I would hurt you a lot. Maybe I’m being ego… uhm… self-centred. I’m sorry, if I am. But I don’t want to risk hurting you, not even one bit. I think it makes you a bit happy to have me as a friend, maybe. If that is the only way I can make you happy, then that’s the only way I will.

I will love you, and try to make you happy, forever.

With all the love I can feel,

Arthur.