There you are in the tabloids again, and I race to print them. Looking in stunning in your black and white top that flows into sleek black pants, you dominate the red carpet. Your image hanging on my wall is the closest I will ever get to you. I am just a white virgin twig hoping to one day grow into a strong brown oak that looks half as good as you. Your talent makes everything I do look like crap, and I strive to wake up as flawless as you do in all of your Instagram pictures.

I can still remember the first time I heard one of your songs. My mom and aunt were racing me to the emergency room because my brother pushed me off of our bed and I landed head first on the toy chest. I was in and out of consciousness, but I can still remember that "Single Ladies" came on as soon as we got into the car, and I immediately felt at ease. I barley lost consciousness and smiled the whole way. When I got home, I insisted on hearing everything you had made, and my mother felt so bad about what had happened that she obliged.

As I grew up, you were always there. After tough days in middle school and high school, I would destress by turning on something by you. anything. Bills, Bills, Bills. Say My Name. Ave Maria. Irreplaceable (and the Spanish version on especially emotional days). Amid the Fall Out Boy and Radiohead, you were always starred on my playlists but I didn't want anyone to judge me. Despite your talent, I would be picked on and teased mercilessly for knowing all the words to "I Was Here".

But then, I met Martina. She looks just like you. Her honey-blonde hair jumps out against her caramel skin and her hazel eyes almost make me melt like yours do. My crush for her was hindered by my love for you, but I couldn't just stop listening to you. So, I had a plan. I asked her out to prom, and later anonymously asked the DJ to play "Upgrade U". As soon as it started, I took her by the hand and told her this was my favorite song (though now it's hard to choose between that and "Lemonade"). Instead of judging me or asking me if I was gay, she just smiled and we wended up dancing all night. She still knows I would dump her in an instant if I had the chance to be with you and accepts me for it anyway.

Now, we are expecting out first child, Ivy (She wouldn't let me name our daughter Blue) and I couldn't be happier. Thanks for accompanying me throughout my life

Sincerely,

A straight, white, happily married guy who is still fierce!

I peeked at her, a pink dress.

Yes, that’s the one I want too. I said to myself.

I had cut short my long wavy hair to match her bob.

I walked the hall with an air of confidence.

I posted my selfie and got numerous compliments.

″ You look like your sister”. I heard a classmate said to her.

The circle of my friends on social media increased. I was young, impulsive and more of a doer than a thinker, which my twin was.

“I am too blue to wear blue?” she said to me and picked a red dress.

I posted those words on my online account and wore red. Girls in my class whispered to me that my sister liked to copy me. I laughed it off, well no one knew the truth.

My circle of friends grew and she became a loner. But, she was still happier.

My envy became an obsession.

She told me one night that she wanted to be a doctor. Next day, I brought pre-med books at home.

At the dinner table, my father asked me what I wanted in my life.

“Dad, I want to be a doctor.”

“And, you Sana?” asked my mother.

She did not say anything. "I am still thinking.” She said dryly.

"Have something definite, like your sister.” My father said to her.

“If you like, you can also be a doctor.” my mother said.

She nodded to that.

We sat for the exam and were qualified and went to the same medical school.

In the classroom, I sat one row above her to observe her closely.

She gazed at a boy regularly. Suddenly, I liked him too.

I introduced myself to the boy before she could do.

For that, she seemed not happy with me.

I started going out with him, after some time I realised he was a mistake.

I found it hard to maintain a relationship.

My anxiety started to grow as there was a lot of pressure at work.

I became thinner and thinner. I was so depressed that someone suggested professional help.

Few months at rehab, I got out looking all well.

I saw my sister on social media, she was engaged.

I was taken over by rage.

But I put up a smile and controlled my emotions.

I looked at her fiancee and I thought that I found my love.

Your so beautiful. The way you laugh at your own jokes is beautiful. The way you talk is beautiful your voice is actually music to my ears. its my favorite sound, its what i listen to when in wake up in the morning, and when i go to sleep at night. I hate seeing you cry which is why you never have to worry about those stupid bullys again. You said your parents were making you move and i couldn't let them take you away from me. I love you. I love you more than they ever would more than mine would ever understand. So, i got rid of them both of them parents would never undertand. You don't know me but you will soon. i'll show you my shrine and worship you wether you want me too or not. Since your reading this note i hope your ready for me, i'm already in your house. Those footsteps are mine, and that gentle knocking on the door is me. if you dont answer fast enough it might turn into banging but dont be scared. I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.I love you. I love you. I love you.

His roommates didn't mind Eddie Hunt. He was a fanatic about bugs. Displayed all over every wall of his little room upstairs were dead bugs with sewing pins attaching them to the cork boards. He also began to study bug splattering on windshields and became an expert on which bugs were where during seasons and time of year, actually aiding detectives in forensics.

During his senior year in college, Eddie sat at a cafe near the apartment. He had seen this girl before but never had the courage to approach her. He knew he would be leaving Austin soon. It was now or never.

"I'd be pleased if you would sit with me," he said to her gently as his person was filled with fear of rejection.

"Thank you!" Anna said. She was pumping up on coffee before a final exam.

Their conversation flowed so easy and natural. For both of them their conversation felt kindred and relaxed. Secretly for now they admired one another's eyes, intellect and many more nuances of observation.

"So," Eddy said, "What is your major?"

"I get lots of funny looks when I tell people. I am obsessed with extermination. I hate bugs! Do you know there is a science pinpointing exactly what chemicals are needed to kill pests based on the biology of their defenses? Your major?"

"Forensics."

I want to own him.

I knew this the moment we met in the rain. So beautiful. So charming.

“I wanted to kiss you that night.” He told me two weeks later, lying in bed. The afterglow was swirling around us like a cocoon, keeping us in a drunken haze.

“I love you.”

He loves me. I need him like I need air. I can’t live without him. I won’t live without him.

“Let’s get an apartment. How about those new ones on Old Chicago Pike? They have three bedrooms. One for us, one for an office and one for Abby.”

I like those apartments. There is a strange sculpture in front of the rental office. It looks like half of a globe if you stare at it long enough. And Abby. Four years old. I love her. She’ll be mine too.

“I want to marry you.”

He’ll be mine forever. I’ll never let him go.

“Our babies will be special because they’ll be made from love.”

Babies. I never really wanted babies. For him, I’ll have babies. For him, I’ll have a dozen babies.

For him, I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything and everything.

“Did you get the rental application?”

I already filled out the application. I paid the deposit. First and last month. We will move in on the 15th.

“You’re sure you just want to leave the couch?”

I hate the couch. I already bought a new couch. I bought all new furniture actually.

“Tomorrow then. I’ll be here with the truck to pick your things up right after I tell her.”

Boxes full. Stacked high in the living room. Ready to go.

“I can’t leave.”

What? It’s not that complex. You say that you’re leaving her and leave.

“She says she won’t let me see Abby. Five years. I just need to wait five years until Abby is older.”

I hold the phone to my ear to protest, but he isn’t there.

I drive past his house. I drive past his job. Over and over.

One year, two years, three years, four years, five years. He will be back now.

I drive past his house. I drive past his job. Over and over.

Six years. He is one year late.

Seven years, ten years, Sixteen years. Twenty years.

Greying hair. Comb-over. Hanging belly.

I drive past his big new house with an underground pool. I drive past his job. Over and over.

He is mine. He belongs to me.

For him, I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything and everything.

For him, I’ll wait forever.

Every time I end our call, I can’t wait for when we next connect. Not to mention our future plans. Of course… I’m so excited to see you again.

We’ll have so much fun, right? We’ll talk, we’ll hang around the city, we’ll become closer and closer. Unless you don’t want to.

No, no, no. You want to see me again, you wouldn’t call me so often if you didn’t. How ridiculous of me to think we weren’t friends.

Are we good friends, though? Or is this more of a strong acquaintances deal? We don’t share anything that deep. That would be weird. After all, I have other friends. I do.

Back to our future plans, they’re happening for sure. I’ll ride the bus into your neighbourhood and we’ll make a day of it. Nothing could go wrong, I won’t let myself ruin all the fun. Not like every other time.

What other time? Oh, I’m talking about nothing. It’s just I don’t keep friends for very long. I guess I get a little annoying, a little dull, a little controlling, a little creepy as time passes. Though I promise, it’s not the same with you.

Funny, isn’t it? It feels like only yesterday we were nothing more than strangers. You meant absolutely nothing to me. Today, our plans are all I think about. It’s because I’m excited! I dread the past when I didn’t know you.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to solidify those plans I keep yammering about. Then again, do we have to make anything concrete? We don’t have to rush the next time we meet. I know you’re busy. I want the next time we meet to be amazing, perfect even. Sure, I might be a little too ideal in my expectations, but you want us to have a good time too.

Right? You still want to see me again?

On second thought, I can’t make it tomorrow. Bummer. I swear, it’s not because if I ever see your face in real life once more it’ll finally occur to me that I have stuck in my head cycling over and over this horrific version of you that’s just so unrealistic and borderline inappropriate, then all my daydreams of us together will shatter as I realise that we can’t be friends forever; you’ll learn to hate me or I’ll drive you away and I’ll have to learn to live without you.

I’m telling you! I’m not nervous!

I’m cool. I’m normal.

Yeah, sorry. I can’t make it tomorrow.

But I might have some time forever.