This one wouldn't have even been written if it wasn't for Demolition-GIRL-33236, so you can thank her. I had something else planned for this drabble, but now it's going to be the next one instead.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

Confession Part 2

Dear Max,

I hate you. I hate you for making me fall head over heels for you. I hate you for having the nerve to stick around in my head, no matter how many times I try to forget about you. I hate you so much that I could kill you right now if I didn't know you wouldn't be able to read the rest of this letter that I'm not going to send you anyway! I guess I'm really just writing this for self-assurance or something. Why does life always have to be so complicated?

Max, I can't be in love with you. For one thing, you're three years younger than me. I know people are always saying that 'age is but a number', but a three year difference is a lot if you're as young as you are. Also, long distance relationships never work out. I'm not really sure if any relationship would work out between us; we're way too different. It's almost unfathomable.

The disgusting thing is that whenever I think I've just about gotten over you, a voice comes whispering in my ear reasons why it would be a good thing. It's so frustrating!

By the way, you owe me a new alarm clock since I just threw mine up against the wall because of you. Is this what being in love does to people? Because, if it is, I can see why love gets a bad rap.

You're lucky no one else is home but my mom right now (she understands teenage girls to a degree) or I'd yell at you for making me act so stupid with the rest of my team here; especially Dunga. That's another reason we wouldn't work – I'd never live it down.

The question I find myself asking is, even if everything went wrong, would it be worth it if I got to live a wonderful life with you? My head says no, but my heart says yes. I guess love is kind of like beyblading; you have to know when to play the game with your head and when it's better to follow your heart.

Well, thank you for listening, even though you'll never see this.

Thanks for nothing, yet everything,

Mariam

P.S. I think I'd rather follow my heart, should we meet again.

Mariam folded up the letter and selected a particularly well-worn novel off of her bookshelf to hide it in. She replaced the book and flopped onto her bed with a moan. She listened to the sounds of the village's children playing for a bit, before getting up to go and see what was for dinner.

Love really did do strange things.

A/N: I don't think I have anything to say.

Review?