An Open Letter to Mr. Prosperous

Dear Mr. Prosperous,

I spoke to you properly for the first time last semester after IRO semiformal, and I was instantly charmed by you. Seriously. I remember we danced to Punjabi music and you got me to play beer pong for the first time. We were supposed to walk to dorms together, but you ditched me to go to another party and I had to call a cab. I guess that speaks to the fact that whatever connection I had with you was very genuine, and not forced. And to the fact that, even from the beginning, I was more interested in you than you were in me.

Then spring break happened. The beaches, the partying, the drinking, the flirting, the heartbreak, the adventures. From the moment I saw you at the hotel, so nicely dressed for dinner, you had caught my attention. I remember thinking that you had a beautiful smile. Within a couple days I had already developed a crush on you, and was flattered to think that you might have been flirting with me.

Then we kissed (perhaps only because you failed to get Urvi?) and damn, I was into it. (Seriously. Damn.) When was the last time I was so into it? I can’t even remember. With my first boyfriend I guess.

And then you avoided me. My poor heart.

And then you said there was another girl. A girl you actually liked. My poor, poor heart.

But we talked, we sorted it out. You still impressed me with the things you said. I wonder if you know that you have that impression on people by saying certain things.

And then I got drunk – really drunk – and you hooked up with me again. I know, I know, you asked me if it was okay! But of course I said yes – you knew that I liked you. And then when I begged you to please, please stay, you left anyways.

And I went to the beach and wept and lied in the sand. How could I have let you get to me like that? And why did I feel so many feels. Why was I letting you ruin my vacation.

And then we sorted it out – again. I forgave you, and – ha, how patronizing – you commended me. “Good on you for being so mature, Shreya!” Hmm. Really?

But I still felt so sad, and so hurt. It’s never easy to give someone so much and have it be so unrequited. We went back to being friends, but the feeling never left.

I missed the sensation of being with you. So I lied to you and said that I was okay being casual. I was not okay though. I knew that whatever we did meant way more to me than it did to you. I was just taking whatever I could get.

And today…to hear you say again, “There are no feelings,” so ruthlessly. Fine. Low key fuck you. Low key though.

I mean at least sugarcoat it! Preface it with something. “I think you’re beautiful and amazing and blah blah blah, but for whatever blah blah blah reason I just am not emotionally available right now and can’t be in any sort of relationship.” You are awfully blunt sometimes, and that doesn’t make it any easier.

I’m just venting because I’m upset. More than anything I’m just hurt and upset with myself.

At the end of the day though, I really do feel like I can do better. I know I can. You’re not the kind of guy I see myself ending up with. For starters, I need to find someone who actually does really like me for me. And someone who can engage with me intellectually. Someone I can talk history with, and music, and philosophy (the male version of Ally?). Someone academic and scholarly. Someone taller and less skinny.  Someone who makes me laugh! Someone easier to talk to. If anything, Mr. Prosperous, you’ve helped me sort out what I truly want out of a relationship. And I thank you for that. And you’ve also reminded me what it feels like to be crazy about someone again – I had almost forgotten that feeling. There is beauty in pain, and I’ve appreciated its beauty this past month. I thank you for that, too.

And no matter how much you hurt me, I honestly do forgive you. I will always have the deepest respect and admiration for you, Mr. Prosperous. You are truly an impressive human being and I have no doubt that you will accomplish the most smashing things. It’s probably going to hurt when I see you at Restoration Ball tomorrow. Or when I see you with other girls. But I’ll be okay. You’ve made me stronger and you’ve taught me some really important lessons, and I really am glad, at the end of the day, that I met you Mr. Prosperous.

Oh, and if I ever go for you again, Ally has the right to smack me silly.







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