Dear Katherine

Is this normal? It doesn't feel good.

Dear Katherine,

       We had started to hang out at the library. Yup, we upgraded.

       I remember that we had always sat the table at the corner of the library—the one near the window. You used to sit with your back to it, and I sat across from you.

       I had liked it like that because you looked so beautiful when you read, especially with the sunlight streaming down from the background. You were so bright—you were practically glowing. We had gone to the library early in the morning one day and afterwards we had kept coming back. So pretty soon, it had become a routine for us. I didn’t really read—I just pretended to read while I secretly snuck glances at you.

       Sometimes, you would ask me to read some poetry for you. And you would lay your chin on the wooden table and look up at me with a soft smile on your face. And my face would get really red because I had always felt self-conscious with such a beauty staring up at me like that.

       And sometimes, I would ask you to read some poetry; but not the boring ones. I had liked the witty poems that rhymed. Sometimes, if the spot was free, we would sit at the other side of the library, where there were wooden bed-things with brown foam that were almost connected to the window so it was practically like a miniature window-bed. During those days when they were free, I would definitely ask you to read poetry for me. You would sit down straight and lean your back against the window and sometimes, when you got to the middle of the poem, I would lay my head on your lap and you would play with my hair until you had finished reading.

        I can still recall one day, I was thinking about you (again). And something weird had gone about in my stomach. It had been a giddy feeling, and my mind almost went into a complete state of bliss. Honestly, I had no idea what was happening to me. Sometimes, my body would feel all warm and fuzzy when I was with you. And this one time, I had been talking to someone about you, and my heartbeat suddenly went faster. I would even get sweaty hands just by thinking about you, Kath.

       Did you also feel that way, at the time? Did you even feel anything for me? Of course you did, right? I mean… why else did you call me in the middle of the night just to tell me that you had missed me, and why else did you occasionally play with my hair and pinch my cheek and hold my hand?

       You had feelings for me... right, Kath?

       Forever yours,

       Jonathan.