Kindly, Kayla

Lately, I’ve been brainstorming different ways I can be more creative on my blog. I love books, and I want to write one someday, so I thought it would be fun to experiment with doing creative writing in different genres. I’m currently reading To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han, and I felt inspired to write a letter just like the main character, Lara Jean.

In the beginning of the book she says:

When I write, I hold nothing back. I write like he’ll never read it. Because he never will. Every secret thought, every careful observation, everything I’ve saved up inside me, I put it all in the letter. When I’m done, I seal it, I address it, and then I put it in my teal hatbox.

They’re not love letters in the strictest sense of the word. My letters are for when I don’t want to be in love anymore. They’re for good-bye. Because after I write my letter, I’m no longer consumed by my all-consuming love. I can eat my cereal and not wonder if he likes bananas over his Cheerios too; I can sing along to love songs and not be singing them to him. If love is like a possession, maybe my letters are like my exorcisms. My letters set me free. Or at least they’re supposed to. (Han, 2014).

SHE’S SO REAL.

Initially, when I wrote my letter, I said it would be something that I would keep for my eyes only, like Lara Jean. However, I decided to play along with the book a bit. Lara Jean’s letters get mailed to the boys she wrote them to by her mischievous little sister!! Now, my letter will not be getting mailed to who it may or may not be for, but I will share it here on my secret little blog, so here it is:

Dear Boy Who Shall Not Be Named,

We met at the beginning of my freshman year of college. You were a sophomore. I was shy. You were outgoing and inviting. Our first meeting was something that to this day is still ingrained into my memory, yet I doubt that you remember it like I do.

I walked into a meeting that would change my college experience for the better. And you played a part in that. As I walked alone on campus in the dark to this meeting, I was scared. My best friend, who was supposed to embark on these next four years with me, had decided to leave to return to our hometown on move-in day. I asked my roommate to attend this meeting, but she had other plans. Albeit nervous, something in me still decided to attend this meeting because I was determined to make friends on this campus.

I sat down by myself at a table in the back of the lively room filled with other Christian students who looked just like me. A thought appeared in my mind, “I hope this doesn’t turn out to be like that group I went to last week.” Where I was surrounded by people, but still felt alone. The worst feeling in the world. But then you turned around and said, “Hey, come sit up here!” That moment allowed for me to feel seen in an organization that I would come to love so much. So much so that during my junior and senior years, I ended up becoming the president of it. Finally, I have a place where I belong.

Anyway, let me get back to the point lol.

Let me be clear, though. The crush didn’t happen instantaneously. It was a slow burn. It was the way you said hi to me on campus every single time you saw me. It was the constant bickering over whose NFL team was better (Go Niners), the Twitter fights, the Crumbl cookie debate, that one time you were (finally) nice to me and supported me on that one Instagram post, the never ending sarcastic comments, that FaceTime call that had me spiraling, and that one time our group played Skribbl on zoom and you couldn’t stand to be losing to me.

There were code names used to discuss you: Guacamole, Guac for shot. Redacted. My friends got tired of me talking about you and could not understand why I just couldn’t tell you how I felt. Meanwhile, I felt that I threw hints that didn’t land.

I just knew that we were meant to be. I thought that us both hating chocolate, disliking guacamole (hence the code name, but I actually like guacamole now), loving Jonathan McReynolds, and loving The Parent Trap (1998) meant something. But now that I write this out, I realize how childish it sounds.

Over time, my crush grew and grew, consuming my thoughts. Every time I saw you, I felt like I was no longer able to form sentences correctly. I did not want you to find out what was going on inside my mind, so I may have seemed standoffish in a way.

Sometimes I wondered if you felt it too.

I see pieces of you throughout my day. That one worship song that plays on the radio reminds me of you. That one Moonchild song that I sang over and over again in my dorm room because it truly depicted my feelings. A literal book in the Bible. I cannot escape your name, dang. 😭

But as the years passed by, I realized that I had to close the door on what-ifs in my mind. I’ve come to learn that when a guy likes you, he makes it clear. I no longer want maybes, kinda, and I think sos to be a part of my story.

I’m letting you go.

Thank you for being a friend. Thank you for showing me how I feel when I like a guy, so I know who not to choose. And thank you for being you.

Kindly,

Kayla ♡

To my parents, if you’re reading this. This is fake news. No questions or comments at this time. xD