To my dream guy,

Call it a gut feeling, but I know you’re out there somewhere and somehow I know that we’ll never be together, but we will definitely meet one day. Part of your perfection is that you are so unobtainable and out of my league that the two of us could only ever be together in fictional romance conjured by my mind. You’d be the one guy that no one ever really appreciated enough and I’d be the girl who admired you from afar. Even if they noticed or respected you, it would be for all the wrong reasons. Often you’d hear, “You’re so hot”, but that’d be the second thing you wanted credit for. There would be a talent and I would appreciate it in its entirety like very few other people.

You would be the guy that kept the truth about yourself all to yourself, but I would strive to learn the last detail about you, just to have something to start a conversation with. Everything you led people to think that you were would only be the surface of your character and the things I were to find out could only make you a better person to me. We wouldn’t see each other very much, but on the occasion that we did, I would enjoy your company immensely (not vastly :P), but hide it so I wouldn’t seem desperate (oh deer. :/). Occasionally, I’d try to sneak a glance of you from the distance, but I’d be careful not to stare. I’d be afraid you’d judge me if you caught me.

Your smile would be sincere and you would be humble though all your successes (of which you would have had many P:). Not to say that you weren’t flawed, but flawed in a way that manifested itself as over-vaulting (OMG MACBETH D:) self-assurance – a facade that really hid your deep insecurity that yearned for affection and praise. I would secretly applaud your talent amidst a congratulating crowd and smile to myself for your success, happiness and accomplishment. As long as you smiled, I would continue to smile.

I’d imagine you to have shapely/protruding/toned/defined abs, pecs and/or biceps underneath a presentable white t-shirt, teamed with a pair of straight cut jeans and a pair of nice shoes. If that wasn’t the case, you’d probably be athletic, someone who enjoyed sports even if you weren’t a tank...with guns; maybe a runner or a dancer. xD I wouldn't judge :P

Overall, the thing I would admire most would be how genuine you were; a guy that didn’t let success go to his head. [Looking to Taeyang for explanation] xD You would never develop a sense of complacency once you reached the top, but you would continue to work hard and fight for everything you’d earned as if you hadn’t worked quite hard enough to get it in the first place.

Your smart mouth would smile smugly as you said something appropriately inappropriate at exactly the right time and I would roll my eyes and smile right back. Its funny how I can see it all playing out, isn’t it? Your sense of humour would appreciate mine, but we would still never be together no matter how perfect we would have seemed. You would be my dream boy, but I would not be your dream girl. That’s the bottom line. Your league would be so far out of mine that it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to talk or look at each other. I would be just like any other girl (of many) to you – like how everyone saw your talents; indistinguishable from another, but that would be okay for both of us.

I would live on, finding someone else, accepting that you would fall for the more attractive beautiful people around me. I would give up on you as soon as you’d found happiness and move on. You would become the one who got away and I wouldn’t even realise it as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. I would not ask for anymore from you, but I would beg to be not any part less from your life. I would like to be there to guide you and guard you. I would have loved you and not known myself. Best of luck, man of my dreams.

If we had the chance, sincerely,
Carmen :)

Dear mum and dad,

I never aim to disappoint you. I honestly want to fulfil all your expectations and make you proud, but sometimes your blind belief in my makes me feel guilty that I might let you down. It’s usually as if you don’t know a thing about me, or understand me at all for that matter, but I know you love me and just want the best for me. I can never stay mad at you. I often want to tell you how I feel so you won’t push me so hard, but it scares me to show you how weak I am.

Dad, I know you always want to protect you little girl, but I’m not a little girl any more. I can hold my own and take care of myself now. You don’t have to worry about me. I feel offended when you think I can’t do something because I am female. Your sexism belittles me and I hate standing for it. Despite this, I know you care for me dearly and don’t wish to ever see me hurt. In turn I will hold in everything I feel for the same to you. It still makes my eyes sting a little when I remember that car trip with you to Eastwood, dad. I might have been crying, but inside I was happy.

Mum, you may think you know lots about me, but I think you actually understand me less than dad. You keep telling me that I have to do what’s “best for me”. You keep telling me what I should study (now and in the future). You keep telling me I should study more. You keep telling me what people to not hang around. You keep telling me that I don’t work hard enough. You keep telling me that my friends are better than me and I can’t say a thing back to you. I just don’t know how to. Part of me just doesn’t want to share anything with you because I’m afraid of what’ll happen.

Your narrow-mindedness destroys me because mine is so open. There’s so much that I have often thought about in the world that you think to be mindless. Occasionally, your lack of compassion makes me wonder how someone as emotional as me could be nurtured by the apathetic specimen of a human you are. I fear death and pain; of those around me and for me, you speak as if you do not.

You’re never there to comfort me when I cry because you’re the trigger (bang bang). I tell my reflection that “I’m not going to cry.” That “There’s nothing to cry about. Not for this, not for anything.” It’s like you don’t think it’s a big deal that I’m crying. Obviously, with me, it’s never a big deal and it’ll pass. It usually does, but you don’t even lighten my load, mum. Thanks for that.
Regardless, I clearly love and care for you dearly. As for the secrets of that world, I’ll let you find the out by yourself. You need something to keep you occupied if you live as old as grandma and I hope you do.

Love, your daughter,
Carmen