Ch.7

Dear Harry,

Now that I have been thinking about how I first started liking you, I can't stop. Until now, I had forgotten the gap between us being best friends and us dating.

You'd always had girls flocking to you, while I on the other hand, was more of a late bloomer. 

Girls always loved you, and you knew it. You had the whole package, from the outrageous head of curls, to the perfectly slanted smile, to the adorable dimple indented in your left cheek. You were aware of it all, and you knew just how to work it. It was almost as if you had everything down to a science.

From the start, you were popular with the ladies. I can't remember a time when I hadn't seen a girl staring or caught girls whispering about your unnaturally good looks. You had more than a few girlfriends, but none of them lasted more than a few weeks.  

One night, in eighth grade, we were laying in my backyard, watching the stars. The long wisps of grass tickled my bare arms as my eyes strained to look at you next to me. It was quiet, our steady breathing the only thing that filled the comfortable silence.

I remember looking up at a star-the biggest, brightest, one I could find- and making a wish. 

"Please make him feel the same way about me," I silently begged in my naive, thirteen year old mind.

No more than two seconds later, I heard you shift over, turning your body towards me.

"Hey El? Can I ask you something?"

I titled my head, meeting your green eyes, glowing even in the night sky. 

Suddenly, my heart quickened its beat, my blood started rushing, and my breathing became ragged. I honestly thought that my wish was coming true, right then and there. I thought you were going to finally confess how much you liked me, how much you have been wanting to tell me. I started mentally preparing myself, speculating over how I should react.

"Yeah, Harry, anything," I finally managed to peep out.

I eyed you as you took a deep breath. The moments ticked by, milliseconds feeling like hours. My body was completely frozen as I waited for you to speak.

"Do you think I should ask out Jessica? She is really hot," you said to me, your eyes leaving my face and landing on a star, millions of miles away.

I felt my heart deflate in my chest as my throat tightened, tears threatening to spill down my face. 

It was always like this, and every time it hurt more and more. I was just your best friend, nothing more. I began to realize that you liked girls with prettier faces and bigger chests. I would constantly have to nod my head, confirming that each and every girl you named was pretty. I felt so selfish, but at the same time, I wanted you to be happy. I was stuck between wanting you to have the girl of your liking, but only if that girl was me.

The day never came when I was the one you wanted; it was always another girl on your long list. I began to comprehend that I wasn't good enough for you, that you deserved better. I told myself that if you didn't like me, something was wrong with me, and I had to change.

It only got worse as we got older. Around the same time as we entered high school, I began to notice little changes occurring to you, all so small one could not detect the alter, but together, it was one big transformation.

Your face thinned out, a new, sharp jawline coming to the surface. Your little-boy voice slowly deepened into a more manly, hoarse tone. Your biceps no longer had that small layer of chub, instead being replaced by a set of firm muscles. Your previously smooth complexion had a few endearing zits, although they hardly took away from your heavenly good looks.

Perhaps my favorite change out of all was the one that was unfortunately a less common sight. I remember when I first saw it; it was the summer going into tenth grade, and we went to our neighborhood pool. We sat down at two unoccupied lounges and put down our stuff. I started applying sun block on my arm when I looked up as you took off your shirt, exposing your lean torso. It was a huge contrast to the summer before, your previously pudgy stomach nowhere in sight. Your new, long chest was now solid, indented with the start of a chiseled six-pack. The dramatic transformation caused me to squeeze the bottle in my hand, the white lotion squirting all over my leg. The entire day, my eyes didn't leave your body.

Not once.

Since that very day, I would constantly examine your body, hoping that I would get a glimpse of your extremely attractive qualities. I knew it was a good day the second I saw you in one of your tight white t-shirts, just barely giving a show of your abdomen.

Unfortunately, I was not the only one that noticed your ever-changing body. Where ever you were, girls would perk up at the sight of you, your face being enough to make anyone's heart flutter. I would always feel a pang of jealously when I'd see you eye the beautiful girls, not once having that same stare towards me. 

You still paid attention to me; but it was never the same kind of attention as the other girls. It killed me to know that I would never be good enough for you, never have a chance with you. It killed me to know that the boy I felt so strongly towards didn't feel the same way, that his care was always for another girl. It killed me that all we would ever be was best friends.

It all killed me so much, that I wanted to change. And change I did, but not for the better.

I think I should stop writing for now, Harry. I don't think I have the strength right now to write about what I did to myself. I promise, I will finish our story, it will be completed. I'll talk to you so soon, I miss you and love you so much. I really do. 

With so much love,

Ella Wella.

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**I'm so sorry it has taken so long to upload this! What'd you think? What did Ella do to herself? GIVE ME FEEDBACK!

Read my FINISHED stories, "The Step-Brother" "The Teacher" and "The Boy That Saved My Life"

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