#janeward

I love you. I'm not going to deny this fact, ever. I can't. I love you. And I think you must realize that before you read any farther. 

That I love you and all we've ever had together. 

Every moment.

Even as I write this, broken, loving you, loving you always, I love looking back and crying because I know it's not what you really want. I love that I have something to look back and cry on, even if I am crying, even if it does hurt. It hurts, Ed. It hurts a lot. It hurts to see myself blushing and drinking coffee with you in that coffee store. It physically makes me ill, makes my stomach hurt, makes my head reel and my stomach churn. 

God Ed, I love you.

I didn't say loved, because just because you can't be with someone doesn't mean you don't love them, that you never did, or that you don't still now. 

And I can't be with you. 

And I love you. 

And since the moment I saw you I have.

And I do. 

Present-tense I love you. Not past tense. Present. Present tense. I love you and that isn't going to change for one second.

Ever.

But the thing is, Ed, is that you don't love me. You can't. And I'm not saying this as a bad thing. You just don't. I can't blame you but you don't.  From the moment I first met you I didn't expect you to love me anyways. I expected you to not making me feel the way I do as I write this. I expected you to make me feel a different broken... The ignored broken, where you feel like you're just a plant trying to make the room better, but you're off in a dark corner, and no one can see you. I expected to be in the dark corner, waving and flailing my arms but you never seeing.

And I guess, in a way, I still am. I'm still in that corner, waving and flailing my arms but you are never seeing me. 

You say you love me and that's sweet. But you don't understand, Ed. You always say I love you more like you have to prove it. 

You don't have to prove what you don't feel. And I get that now. 

Ed, I love you.

But when you say "I love you," I just... I don't know. It's hard to believe you. It's hard to really believe that you love someone like me. 

It's not like I don't forgive you. 

Honestly, who could blame you? I'm not good enough. You don't deserve dead weight, anyways.

You deserve the world. 

I think I've told you this, but I'm going to say it again because you do. I don't want you to say you don't. I really, really don't. Please don't.

Please don't make me change my mind after this. I really want you to, but I don't. I want you to kiss me and hold me and tell me that it was an accident, that you don't love them like you love me but if you do that I know there'll be no turning back and I'll spend the rest of my life dragging you down, being your dead weight. I love you and that won't change and more than anything, anything I've heard or gone through, taking off this ring... Putting it in here... God, Ed. It took me an hour, just because I spent the entire time bawling, scared, scared and hopeless. A blubbering wreck and yeah. But don't catch me. Don't make me happy, don't do that thing where I love you for it. Don't... Don't make me stay.

I want you to marry a girl you love.

That girl isn't me. 

I love you, though. I do. But I'm more worried about your happiness.

Ed, promise me something. Promise me you'll be happy, not matter what happens. No matter who you end up loving...

Promise me you'll love them, and you'll be happy with them.

Please tell me that you'll find that person you love.

Love them for me, Ed. For the girl that loved you so.

I wish you the best in everything. In your life, in your happiness, in your joys, in your everythings. I love you.

With much love,

Jane

And in the letter, she taped the ring she thought she'd never take off, sealed the envelope.  And she cried. And then she put "Ed" on the front in the cursive everyone always complimented. Jane got up and went to his dorm, in front of his room, and she realized that tears were falling, and they had wet the letter, and she tried to wipe it off with her sleeve, and it didn't really work, and just smeared the letters.

And she slid it under the door.

And whispered, "I love you." 

Jane: Ed.

Jane: Ed.

Jane: Ed.

Jane: Ed.

Jane: ED.

The thing was, Jane had never had anyone notice her before. Not once. In any way, shape, or form. She was always the girl that went by getting good grades, having one or two friends along the way. But without Tarzan here, she had approximately zilch friends. A few acquaintances, but they hadn't hung out or anything. And now... Now she'd met this guy, who was sweet as can be, and couldn't make her smile wider. It was, for the first time, this wonderful feeling of knowing someone knows you exist, and it was like a fall, chilly breeze, that blew your hair back and made you smile and wrap your arms around your chest just a little tighter. As Jane finished braiding her hair, just trying to pass the time, she smiled, just like she had been all day. Or, rather, since she'd first talked to Edward. But then, she looked in the mirror, and the smile slowly faded. It flickered, like a light, then burnt out.