Dear Isobel

letter one

 Dear Isobel,

        It's been six years since I last wrote you a letter. We were eleven then and you were overseas and international calls were just too expensive. I got the idea when you sent me that postcard that still hangs up on my wall, but I couldn't give it to you until you arrived back here. It kind of defeated the purpose of a letter to you overseas, but you were happy to receive it anyway.

         I know you're not overseas right now – in fact, I just said goodbye to you about ten minutes ago – but I felt rather compelled to pull out a bunch of loose leaf and a pen and scribble this all down. There's actually a reason behind this letter, honestly.

         Today, I reached a rather horrifying conclusion about something.

         It all happened on the way home, actually. It was the reason I stopped laughing and just kind of stood still on the footpath, rather bemused until you smacked me on the head. You called me an idiot and shoved me until I started moving, and the world kept spinning and all that lovely stuff. You didn't ask what was up, which I'm really grateful for. But we're best friends, and we have a no secrets rule between us. So, I'm going to tell you. In a letter.

          Today I realised I might be a little bit in love with you.

           (And yes, that's totally not in a friend way.)

        I'm never sure how to picture your reaction. I don't know whether you'd awww, or if you'd punch me and tell me I'm concussed, or if your eyes would well up and you'd tell me you felt the same way. I might be a coward, but I kind of don't want to take my chances.

       It hit me really suddenly. We were laughing about how Rob wears his jeans and you started snorting and your cheeks turned pink and I just kind of felt like I got hit between the eyes and it was just –  well shit, what do I do now?

       It feels kind of good to get that off of my chest. So now you know – sort of. I'm probably going to just seal this up in an envelope and hide it somewhere. I've told you, sort of. It's just up to you to find the letter. Loopholes, right?

I love you. I think.
Joe.