"Don't wish, don't start: wishing only wounds the heart. I wasn't born for the rose and pearls. There's a girl I know...he loves her so ... I'm not ... that girl." - Wicked

Arnold.

I haven't heard from you in a month now. I wrote to you yesterday and nothing - you apparently didn't see or respond to my message. Which brings forth this question: where were you? At a party, probably.

You're either downright ignoring me 100% now, or you simply haven't checked the Internet for tthe past 12 hours, which at our age isn't normal. It was Friday night just a few hours ago. I'll take it you went out and maybe...spent the night at a girl's house.

Why do I believe it to be a girl? Well because the last time you went to a party and slept over at a guy's house, not only did you reply as soon as you got home, but you also wrote back to me. Not this time, however.

Is that why you've been ignoring me recently? Have you finally met someone else, and you want me out of your life for good?

Oh crap, the mere thought brings forth unfathomable dread in my poor, fragile, lovesick teenage soul. The idea that I might lose you, my one and only, for good and forever...it terrifies me. I'm so afraid that you'll replace me but, most importantly and even more pathetically, I'm afraid that by doing so you'll no longer talk to me. After all, if there's an actual girlfriend in your life, what room is there left for me, your devoted, lovestruck fool of an ex-girlfriend?

I think the Universe is mocking me or something because apart from you, everything else in my life is going well. I'm acing all of my courses, I'm looking better everyday - thank you puberty - Phoebe's spending more time with me and less with her group of nerds, and even my parents are acknowledging my existence. I'm also working to get a writing scholarship for college and my English teacher thinks that my chances are very good. Also, met this cool Brazilian exchange student who I've become pals with, Andrés. I'm kind of getting the feeling that he likes me, but unfortunately for the both of us, the only guy in my heart is you. I'm not sure I'm ready to date anyone else. He's leaving two months from now though, and he appreciates my company either way, so. Phoebe thinks I should give him a chance, if not just to keep my thoughts off of you for a while. I think it'd take a miracle for something like that to happen.

Curly and I made up, eventually. He apologized and send he'd blown a fuse because something had upset him that day. When I asked what it was, he said that he didn't want to talk about it but, either way, he seems better now, so I guess there's no need to worry too much.

You'll never believe this, but I'm actually now kind of friends with Princess Rhonda. I know, who'd have thought? We bicker a lot, but eh, it's all in good fun. Besides, making fun of her obsession with fashion is always a riot and having a rich fashion victim as a pal has its uses.

Heh, my letter regained a semblance of normalcy. I sound a little less desperate.

Considering how much you've been ignoring me recently, however, you can bet your hat off that I'll never send you this one. In all honesty, I'm lost: I really, truly don't know what to do about you anymore. I'm just confused about everything. All I know is that I still love you and always will.

Curly and I had a deep talk on the subject today, actually. We have to continue the conversation tomorrow and I need to think everything over for a bit before I decide on a possible way to end this madness or, at least, to find SOME way out or SOME solution. I don't know, just...anything, anything to make it stop! Anything so that it doesn't pain me this way everytime I think of you, how long it's been since I've been around you, and all the girls that get to see you. I'm jealous of every single one of them for merely being able to look at you and be in the same room as you. If I could just see you again. Just one last time, even for just ten seconds, even if I can't talk to you. That's all I ask for, just one last time...

I dream about you every day again. I swear I'm going to turn mad one of these days.

Who am I kidding? I already am. I'm pretty sure I officially turned insane the moment I laid my eyes on you for the first time.

Anyway, enough cheesy talk, I guess. It's late again, and sleep is calling. Plus might meet Andrés to go out tomorrow.

Goodnight, my beloved.

With much heartache,

Helga G. Pataki