Dear... M
Hey. This is kinda hard to admit, because of how long I've lied about this. For years, I have skirted the edges of the truth, but I have to tell you one way or another, at some point.
But my point is, I love you. I do. I really do.
At first, I never realised, I just knew that if you asked, I would be there, always and forever, but if you asked, then I would always, if reluctantly, let you go. If it was what you wanted. One day, I caught a glimpse of you across the street, I don't think you noticed me back, but some corner of my mind whispered those three super cliché words, and I wasn't surprised in the least. It seemed only natural, that I loved you, and it was almost laughable that I hadn't fully recognised it before.
We've been pretty close for seven years now. But the thing is, you weren't always M, as much as you hate it, my best friend used to be L, but she was a she, and you have always been the opposite. It is silly though, that I worry how you being transgender could affect how you'd feel if I told you I'd started loving you before any of that? Is it transphobic at all? I don't think so, but I feel you’d be offended. But still, through a change in perceived gender, I've kept loving you. I only wish I could be brave enough to say it to your face, or at all. I want to imagine you finding this letter, and reading it, and instinctively knowing who wrote it, and who was meant to receive it.
It doesn't matter. But at least now someone knows. Someone, out there, probably in a different country, continent, but with the same understanding as anyone. Thank you, for your time. And I hope you can forgive me for wishing you were mine.