I’m afraid this letter might be a little more boring, and it might make you uncomfortable. I didn’t expect myself to talk about it so soon, but I figured I’d tell you anyway. While we’re best friends (or maybe we’re not), I’ve realized you don’t know that much about me, and I don’t know that much about you either! It kinda sucks, really, because I always want to get to know you more. Like knowing your favorite color, which house of Hogwarts do you belong in, are you allergic to sadness—you know, those kinds of things.

And, if you want to know, my favorite color is blue or black. I’ve been told I’d belong in Gryffindor maybe, as well as Slytherin for some reason, but I think that was meant in an insulting way of that conversation. …Also, I think I attract the sadness.

I feel like such a complete and total bitch. If you want to wait to have sex, this is something I should respect. At least you want your first time to be sacred or something special to you. And you want to wait until you’re completely and totally ready. Most people aren’t like that these days. Hell, there are still some people who aren’t proud they’re virgins.

Honestly, I was one of those people.

I’ll just give you the short version on this whole thing when it came to my own first time. My whole career on having hook-ups with all these ladies started in high school when I was fourteen. I realized that I would never be able to keep a secret relationship with someone. That included a whole lot of lying that I didn’t want. You know how much I hate lying. So when I talked with one of girls in my freshman class, I didn’t really know exactly what I was getting into—she did. I went to her house for a “study date” and she seemed to smell the lesbian all over me, like we have a fucking scent. One thing led to another and we just—did it. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I decided to give into peer pressure. Either way, we never had to speak of it again. She even said so…and that was that. I had realized that you could do something that was pretty enjoyable with no ties or anything to worry about later on. So that’s when the whole hooking up thing and me becoming a—lady of the night had started.

I’m not proud of what I did. I’m still not, when I think about it. So I admire you for waiting. In fact, you inspire me. Sometimes I wonder why I’m attracted to the innocent or want to protect the truly kind and caring. It’s because it’s something I desire to be, but I threw it all away at fourteen. And then I lost it for sure at seventeen. I’ve somehow managed to lose myself, but you never did. So far, you’ve kept your promise to me. You never lost yourself. You’ll always be Benji Smythe, and that’s something that will always inspire me and something I’ll always admire. I’m sorry that I didn’t appreciate it more when I was around you. I’m sorry that—I never appreciated us more. Now I can see where it ultimately costs me, because instead of being with you, I’m in Santa Barbra. And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if this is how it ends for us.

Ollie’s told me that I can either fight or give up, but sometimes people fight for a battle that can’t be won. Or they fight so much it drives the person away. Yet giving up can almost make you have that “what if” moment that can haunt you for life. So I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do. Why can’t it be like the movies where some spirits or whatever guides me to the truth? Why can’t you tell me what to do? I don’t even know why I made a stupid peanut butter and banana sandwich with honey this morning. I don’t even like peanut butter or honey. Anyway, I’m rambling, ugh. I hope you keep your promise. I get people change, but I still hope you’ll always be that ray of sunshine people have come to know and love at Knights or anywhere else that people know you.

I think Peanut just ran into a wall chasing a fly. I need to make sure he didn’t break anything. So I’ll send you another letter sometime. Despite I’m not going to send any of these to you.

- Love, Scarlett