Dear Ben.

I’m writing this to you even though you probably don’t really know who I am yet. The only conversation we’ve ever had was in Mr. Henderson’s art class. We got put together as a pair when we were told to paint a portrait of the person sitting at our side. To you, it was probably just another lame task to get through until you could go back to the stuff you actually cared about: namely, basketball. Just an hour of time that needed killing in a day packed with pointless hours. But to me, that hour was just enough time for cupid’s arrow to land its mark. I still own the portrait you painted of me that day. Sorry to say, but you’re not a very good artist. And yet, having something that personal done for me did make me feel… something. And after that day, I think I started noticing more and more things about you.

For example, I noticed just how funny you are. Your deadpan jokes never fail to light up a room. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even joking. Maybe you really are that silly deep down. But even still, I think that ambiguity is a part of why I like you so much. I noticed that you’re one of the hardest workers I’ve ever met. Your determination to get on the varsity basketball team despite only being a freshman might earn you more than just a handful of laughs from the older students, but truthfully, I think they’re just jealous. You practice every day while managing to keep your grades afloat, and I think that’s admirable. Very few people at school have that kind of work ethic, and I think that’s something to be proud of. I also noticed just how cute you are. Like, just SO cute. This is embarrassing to admit but, sometimes, I fantasize about snuggling myself in your chest when I should be listening to math lectures. Also, sometimes when Krista’s blabbing about Lawrence, I find myself daydreaming about being wrapped tightly in those big, trunky arms of yours. And that smile, God. I go crazy thinking about it. How are your teeth so perfect? Actually, why is everything about you so perfect? You’re just brimming with confidence and joy that makes you the star of every room you’re in.

I don’t know, Ben. You’re just the whole package, and I can’t stop thinking about you. Speaking of Krista, I’ve decided that I’m going to join the cheer squad with her. I really don’t care all that much about cheerleading. I’m probably more of a theater kid if I’m being honest. But if it means being able to cheer for you at your games, if it means that you’ll be able to look at me the same way I look at you, then I don’t mind giving up on the drama club. At this point, I’d give an arm up just to have you look in my direction, and I wish I was exaggerating. I really hope that you finally notice me someday. I look forward to speaking to you again.

Yours truly, Gwen Diaz.

---

Dear Ben.

I didn’t expect you to make a move that... aggressively. Krista and Penny were dying of laughter at how flustered I was when you asked me out. But honestly, how could I not be? You’re just everything I’ve ever wanted, and… well, I wasn’t prepared for that! You asked me out to an art museum. An art museum! And you don’t care the least bit about art. Not about Da Vinci or Van Gogh or Picasso or Basquiat or anything resembling the arts. Yet you took me to the Deer Valley Art Museum filled with obscure native American pieces and some other cool stuff from local artists. Just what on earth is up with that? I could tell like ten minutes in that you were tired of it, but you put up with it anyway until we were all done. Why? And when I asked about it, you said it was because the first time we met was during an art class, and you insisted that our first date had to be that.

That day was the first time I saw that romantic side of you. Flowers, chocolate, cute couple’s selfies, morning texts, long phone calls in the evening where you’d call me silly pet names. Oh my God, Ben. Just being able to smile with you every day is a dream come true. You know exactly how to make my world, don’t you? The way you obsess over me is addicting. I love you, Ben. I can say it as easily as one of our good morning texts. I love, love, love you from the bottom of my heart. I love the part of you that messes up the lyrics to our favorite songs. I love the part of you that falls asleep on the phone mid conversation. I love it when you get angry whenever other guys try talking to me. I mean, God, you even made smoking look so good that I ended up trying it. You’re seriously just perfect in every way, and you’re the best boyfriend I could’ve ever asked for. Thank you for finally noticing me.

Your love, Gwen Diaz.

---

Dear Ben.

Is it me, or are things getting a little weird with you lately? I’m not crazy, am I? I don’t really want to be that kind of girl. I saw the way Krista started acting with her boyfriends after she got cheated on by Lawrence. That kind of obsessive attitude where you’re constantly looking over your partner’s shoulder can’t be fun for either person. I don’t want to be like that at all, but I… I’m finding it hard not to be lately. I mean, you just aren’t as romantic as you used to be. You don’t do those small gestures anymore, and you haven’t been as interested in talking to me anymore. It’s been ages since you’ve smiled when we talked. It… kinda of feels like I’m talking to a stranger these days.

What doesn’t help is, I noticed that recently you’ve been talking to Zoey a ton. Miss perfect herself. Every guy’s talked about how they’ve wanted her at least once. It’s been almost three years and it’s all I hear them talking about. But I thought you were different, you know? I thought you’d only have eyes for me. That’s how you made me feel when we first started dating. But there you are, talking to her, smiling like you used to with me. I’m just imagining things, right? I’m just being crazy, right? Because if I’m not, and if you really are interested in Zoey, then… I don’t know how I can compete…

I don’t have her gorgeous looks. I don’t have her popularity, her charisma, her grades, anything. The only thing I have on her is the time we’ve spent together. All I can do is hope that those good memories of you and me are enough to outweigh what she’s offering. They were good times, right? You wouldn’t have spent so much time on the phone with me if they weren’t, right? You wouldn’t have taken me out to eat or hung out with me so much if I were that boring or unattractive, right? Hey, Ben. Please just give me a sign that you still like me. Just one, please.

Your girlfriend, Gwen.

---

Dear Ben.

The anger and resentment I feel towards you cannot be overstated. You ruined it. You tossed our three-year relationship into the trash like a used fucking condom. And for what? Of course I couldn’t take it anymore. Of course I couldn’t deal with those weeks of emotional neglect while being forced to look at how desperate you were for Zoey’s attention. She had you around her little finger. You were like a puppy. That’s not the Ben I fell in love with. You wouldn’t give any other girl the time of day before. To go from that to this, of course I’m going to be pissed.

Naturally, as things got worse, I eventually confronted you about it. I had to. I needed reassurance that things would go back to the way they were before. But you made me feel like my feelings were unwarranted. That I was overthinking things. You told me that everything was fine, and that you just wanted to be able to have friends of the opposite sex. Well, I believed you. And things didn’t change. I was still being neglected for Zoey. Krista told me to dump your ass, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t let go of the memories we had together. I confronted you again at some point. Stupid me. I got really angry that time, remember? I cried and screamed and I wanted the whole world to explode if it meant not getting you back. You were becoming increasingly more agitated by me and things weren’t resolving the way I wanted them to. That’s when I took things too far. I said that I didn’t care anymore. I said I hoped that when you finally realized that both your relationship with Zoey and your basketball career weren’t going anywhere, you’d just end your own life so I wouldn’t ever have to look at you again.

That was when you struck me. I remember it all too clearly. Falling to the ground, losing all sensation in my right cheek for a moment. The pain in my jaw. You looked terrified after. Like you’d made a huge mistake. Then you lowered yourself and apologized a hundred times over. And you know what? I loved it. I loved it because it was the first time you’d shown me anything other than indifference in such a long time. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to notice me. That’s been my thing since day one. And there you were, your eyes finally looking my way, with a caring expression colored by regret and guilt from that moment of anger I’d gotten out of you.

I wasn’t allowed to enjoy the moment though, because that’s when you uttered those parting words, and our relationship ended. I don’t blame you for it. You made a mistake, and you wanted to rectify it. But on some level, it felt like an excuse for you to finally clear your mind of me so that you could focus on Zoey. So that you could shower her with those romantic gestures that you used to shower me with. But I’m afraid that if I see her live the joyful life that I lived with you, I might be the one to end it all. I don’t know how much longer I can keep on going like this, Ben. You were all I had.

Sincerely, Gwen Diaz.

---

Dear Ben.

So, we’re dating again, huh? I wonder why that is, exactly? Actually, I don’t. I know exactly how things ended up like this. It turns out that Zoey was never actually interested in you. You were just intoxicated by the attention she had been giving you. And after pestering her for months, once it became abundantly clear to you how she felt, you came crawling back to me. I should be happy, right? I mean, serves you right.

But the truth is, I can’t be happy, because it still feels like I’m dating a stranger. I can tell with you. There’s no effort anymore. You never want to do anything anymore. You don’t even fucking look at me anymore. I don’t know. I thought that things would go back to normal if we started dating again. I thought now that you realized she wasn’t interested, you’d start paying attention to me like before. But the truth is, my best friend in the whole world died when I got slapped in the face that day.

You know, maybe it’s a good thing that we’re dating again. If we didn’t, maybe I never would have realized just how over this whole thing was. I would still be scrolling through old text messages from the days when we still loved each other. I would have looked at all our old couples’ selfies and I would still be fantasizing about smelling your used T-shirts. I would have kept obsessing over you and chasing you forever. My longing might have colored every future relationship I have. I don’t know. I was crazy about you after the breakup. I even thought about killing for you. But now that everything’s settled, I’ve realized that I have a lot of reflecting to do. About myself, and about future relationships.

That’s right Ben. I’m breaking up with you. You shone too brightly and burned everything around you, including yourself. There was a time when I admired that passion of yours. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best. Maybe that’s why you thought Zoey was worth throwing our relationship to the dirt for. Because she was the girl that every guy wanted to make theirs. She was a trophy that you could line up next to your basketball awards. But I do wonder, was I just a trophy too? Or did you ever genuinely love me? I don’t know if what I call love is the same as the love that everyone else feels, but I understand my own feelings clearly. To me, love is remembering to ask someone how their day was, and I’m tired of tearing my life to pieces over a stranger who won’t ask about mine. I wish you a happy and fulfilling life, Ben. From the bottom of my heart. But I think it’s time we went our separate ways. I really did love you.

Yours truly, Gwen Diaz.