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Dear Wendy,

I love you. God damn, that's so much easier to say on paper that in person. But it's true. I fucking love you, Wendy Testaburger. I've loved you since you kissed me in third grade. Before that, when I called you a hippie or a whore, I meant it. But after that debate, I couldn't ever mean it again. But you didn't care about me. Like you said after the new flag got unveiled, all your feelings for me were gone as soon as you kissed me. I told you that mine were too, but I know I sounded so unconvincing. I'm usually a good liar. Fuck, I'm a fucking fantastic liar. But I could barely even get that out.

Of course after the debate, you and Stan continued on as though nothing had happened. He never said anything about the kiss. Kyle and Kenny never brought it up. What was odd was that I never did? I think they all expected me to. It would have been very like me to throw it in Stan's face daily that his girlfriend had kissed me. The two of you had never kissed like that. Stan's stomach was too weak to handle it. I never bragged about it. I couldn't do it because it hurt me too much. I liked you, not liked, loved. I loved you, but you loved Stan. Flaunting that you had kissed me wouldn't make you do it again. It wouldn't make you leave Stan and come to me.

It always pissed me off when we were kids that you and Stan dated. You and Stan were almost never around each other. You barely spoke. It was all for appearances. The prettiest girl and the cutest boy. You were supposed to be together. It was what I hated Stan for. I didn't care that he was the star of all the sports teams, that he was popular, or that he was good looking. All I cared about was that he had you and didn't appreciate it. And Stan had the nerve to be upset when you broke up with him.

Speaking of that, I was so excited when Bebe came up and told Stan that you were breaking it off. I didn't show it because Eric Cartman doesn't show feelings like that. After all, Eric Cartman has two modes: eating and pissed off. But then, it got around that you were dating Token. God dammit, I was pissed. When I got home I broke my great-grandmother's vase. That was the only time my mother ever really yelled at me, but I didn't care. You were already dating another guy. Nothing else mattered. I would have loved to have chunked another rock at Token that day.

You and Token didn't last long. I was really glad about that. You didn't date anyone for a long time after that. That made me even happier. But I never said anything to you about how I felt. It wouldn't have made sense. Eric Cartman and Wendy Testaburger? No. Nope. Wrong.

I've never been interested in another girl. You were my one and only. But you hate me just like everyone else. Knowing that you hate me is the worst pain I have ever felt. And I had to listen to Barbara Streisand sing once. You're something, Wendy, to have made me both the happiest and saddest I've ever been. That's a talent. But I can't hate you for it. I can't even be mad at you for it. I can't because I love you too much.

But why do I love you? You're practically the hippie poster child. I hate hippies. You're a child after Mrs. Broflovski's own heart. We all know what I think about Kyle's mom. You're as scholastically obsessed as Kyle. I don't give a crap about school work. So why do I love you? It's not just because you're pretty. Well, actually, you aren't pretty. You're beautiful, gorgeous, goddess-like. I remember one day at mass when the priest told us to picture the most beautiful thing we could and it wouldn't equal the beauty of Heaven. I pictured you. But I know that you're more beautiful than Heaven. I think that most people would describe you as hot. Yeah, you are, but hot sort of goes along with fuckable. You're far more than that, at least to me. You're beautiful. But that's not why I love you.

I don't think it's something as shallow as that we both like to make Quadruple Stuffed Oreos. It's not as serious as we've both had someone killed for revenge. It feels like it's something deeper, something on a soulful level, my love for you.

I've got to be creeping you out with this. It looks out of nowhere, doesn't it? This deep confession of love. But it's not. It's been waiting to burst out for almost ten years. Ten years is a long time, Wendy. It's a long ass time. I'm glad that I'll never have to see the look of repulsion on your face when you learn the truth about how I feel for you. I don't know what I'd do if I had to see it. I think I'd cry in front of everyone. Obviously I'd rather kill myself than do that. I'll be dead. I won't have to see the look you'd give me, and I won't have to hear you scream about how much you hate me.

But even though I know you hate me, I love you. You're the only person I love like this, Wendy. I love my mom, but that's more out of obligation. She's my mom. I don't really like her though. I guess I sort of love Kenny but not really. I guess I just like him. He's my best friend. But you, I like you and I love you. You're the only person in the world I feel like this about. I just wish I knew why.

I wonder what things would have been like if I were different. If I were different, if I were a nicer person, would you have liked me? Would you have ever considered me? Felt something for me other than a few days of sexual tension? I'll never know. I was too absorbed in myself to change. I love you, but I couldn't change myself for you. I honestly don't know how to change myself. I don't know if I would have done it if I did know though. Maybe if you had asked me to change I would have tried. I'd have done anything for you, Wendy. I would have fucking cured cancer.

I still need to write a letter to my mom, so I'm going to stop this now. I know you won't care, but I just needed to let you know. I couldn't go through with it without somehow letting you know. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this. And I'm sorry I always insulted you. I never meant it. You're the only one I never meant it to.

I love you so much.

Eric Cartman

Remember to review. This is the last of the letters. The next chapter will be the epilogue.