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Unwritten letters (part I.)

 To be completely honest, even though I am a huge overthinker and love myself some dramatic writing, I am not the kind of girl who writes letters. I always see these girls on TikTok showing pages and pages, front and back, of letters, and I can't help but think about how much I wish I were like them.

Being able to write so much, and maybe even being able to think and feel so deeply, is a gift, for sure. Don't get me wrong, I think a lot, and I feel a lot too (some might even say I feel too much for my own good), but I have a really hard time putting those thoughts and feelings into words. Especially when they're directed to someone else. Especially when writing them to actually be read. Because writing for myself is one thing, but writing for someone else to read? That would be like the equivalent of public humiliation to me.

But I also read that it's really helpful and therapeutic, so here we are.

A letter to the one who taught me love.

It feels a bit weird to be writing this now, knowing that I saw you two weeks ago, we texted a week ago, and that I'll probably see you in class next week. But it's been 6 years since it all started (and 4 since it ended). I think it's about time I talk (write) about it, about us.

Remember how we started? You were one of the smarter kids in class, but an eternal procrastinator, always playing online chess with my best friend in the middle of our Zoom classes with the camera on, while I was a little less bright, way more shy, and always kept my camera off.

We went back to in-person lessons, and somehow you were already friends with the whole class, except for me. You got closer with a couple of people in class, and I ended up joining the group because my friend couldn't bear to see me all alone and quiet, knowing how much I crave having friends.

We became a tight group; we all sat together in class and hung out on almost every break (because sometimes you disappeared with your friends from other classes). We even found two spots that became ours, and everyone knew that because all of you knew everybody, unlike me.

Apparently, while I was completely clueless, you were paying attention. And somehow, everyone around us saw it and expected us to get together.

Then September came. My best friend's formal birthday party came, and I was the first one to arrive; you came later with the rest of our friends from class. None of you recognized me until twenty minutes later, when I went up to the place where you were all standing to say hi.

The night went on, and we kept stealing glances at each other.

It was the middle of COVID season, so we had to take a break and go outside for a change of air.

I guess you could say I was really dumb, or just socially awkward, trying to fill in the silence. I decided that it was the right time to tell you something I found out that afternoon about us.

I thought I had just met you 6 months ago; apparently, we had known each other since I was 3 months old and you were 11 months old. The people I had grown to love as family were your actual family. My babysitter (since I was three months old) was married to your dad's cousin; how crazy is that?

We had been playing together since we were babies, meeting several times a year every year at birthdays and family meetings, and being told to play together because we were basically the same age. I couldn't help but laugh at that; I still can't, because I remembered your mom and your brother, but I couldn't find you in any of those memories.

September flew by in a blur of conversations and low-key getting to know each other (while I remained clueless); October came and also flew by. October 30th was our first kiss; I was at my cousin's birthday, and you were at your friend's sister's birthday. I really can't remember how the conversation went, but you ended up walking across town at three-something AM to get to me; we kissed outside under the moonlight, with a lot of people we knew driving by somehow.

We didn't put a label to it; we kept repeating we weren't ready for something serious, even though we were exclusive. We kept talking daily: six-hour-long phone calls, walking around town, walking out of class together, with you walking me halfway back home.

That reminded me of one specific time you walked me home; I believe it was the first time ever. We were two blocks away from the crossroad where you were supposed to turn to go home. I was ranting about something when you just turned to me and asked if I was playing you; to say I was startled is an understatement. A thousand thoughts rushed to my head, but not one that made sense in that moment.

Apparently your girl best friend hated me for a while; she genuinely thought I was playing you. Most of your friends thought so.

December 30th came, and you asked me to be your girlfriend, not in a big way, just us sitting under a tree at night in one of our town's squares. Sometime along the way, we ended up changing our anniversary date to October 30th because it made more sense to us.

Time kept going by; I don't know if I can remember it all. 

I do remember the first time I met your family. It was a summer night; we were walking around when your mom called, saying they were at your grandparents' place and they were getting pizza. She asked if we wanted to come over. We walked over there, and the one thing I can remember clearly is walking up the stairs to your grandparents' place, seeing your grandma through the living room window, calling out my childhood nickname, the one no one who wasn't family or family friends knew. It was your grandparents', your parents', your aunt, and your brother; they all knew me.

Summer flew by, school started again, you went to school in the afternoon again with the rest of our friends, while I went in the mornings with my best friend. We saw each other for a couple of minutes between the time my last class ended and your first class started. We kept going out in the afternoons and nights; we went to each other's houses weekly.

My birthday passed, along with autumn.

Then winter came, and your birthday. I had been planning your birthday gift since summer: a hoodie with some Evangelion art printed on it, designed by me, but somehow, a week before I could give it to you, you decided to get a shirt with a print of the same exact episode I chose for your gift. I was absolutely insane. I was crashing out, talking to my (our) best friend about it, and didn't know what to do. But you loved that coincidence.

Our first anniversary came, along with Halloween. We were Danny Phantom and Sam Manson.

Time went by again; we were graduating soon, and our generation was asked to choose a representative for our graduation speech. You and someone else were chosen for it, and even though I begged, you never showed me the draft. Our graduation night came. I was standing with my friends and your girl best friend, watching and listening to it, when you mentioned falling in love while looking straight at me, tearing up.

Craziest night of my life.

Then summer passed, with lots of days spent together, going out on walks and sitting in parks in the afternoons, going to my house or yours for dinner, getting ready to go out again till 5-7 AM with our friends, just to walk around town living life.

But with all of that freedom also came the understanding that everything would become serious in a matter of weeks, when we left for university.

We both moved to the same city, a 15-minute walk from each other. School started, and we got to explore the city together. Nights out, afternoons sitting right by the ocean, street market Sundays with friends, study sessions, and God knows how many bus rides together.

My birthday came again, and you got me my (current) favorite mug, white and orange with a bunch of cats, and a hoodie printed with a very detailed design- a design you made- of my (our, because I forced you to listen to it and you actually liked it) favorite Taylor Swift album, Reputation. Absolutely insane.

Days, weeks, and months kept passing, but something didn't feel right.

I stopped feeling validated. I stopped feeling understood. I stopped feeling taken care of.

I started to feel guilty for doubting. I started to feel annoyed. I started to feel like it wasn't the same.

Those thoughts started piling up in my head; I didn't dare talk about it because that would mean it would really happen.

The first time I said something about it out loud was in a changing room, with two of my friends outside the curtains. I just remember saying, "I think I want to break up", opening the curtains, and seeing my friends absolutely petrified. Nobody expected that.

But still, I wanted to keep trying, to make it work.

Months went by like that, with you feeling like I was slipping away, while I stayed in denial.

Winter break came; we saw each other maybe three times, because I kept avoiding you.

I tried my best to keep talking, even prepared a super cheesy handmade birthday gift for you, but I barely got a reaction out of you, and then you left me out there on the street waiting for my mom to pick me up while you went into the cinema with a friend of yours.

To say I was upset is an understatement.

We went back to school soon after, and that was the beginning of the end for us.

Arguments started; apparently, I didn't make enough time for you, even though I failed most of my classes for choosing to spend more time with you than studying.

It got to the point where one of us suggested taking a break, because we didn't really want to let go of each other. Funnily enough, we didn't last two days with this no-contact, week-long break.

Somewhere in our last months together, I had a dream in which you cheated on me with one of your girl best friends. A girl you had talked about with me a hundred times, whom I got to meet in person maybe twice, but also from whom I got weird vibes, like there was something else about you too that I didn't know.

One random day (months before our problems started), you ended up confessing that you were friends with benefits, or basically a situationship, at some point. I instantly jumped in my bed when you told me that, with an "I knew it." I can't forget how startled you looked, like you were afraid someone had told me something you didn't want me to know. Told you it was just intuition, but you didn't look too sure.

Adding that to the mix, along with the dream, did no good to my mental well-being.

We ended up breaking up on a square bench, right in front of my building, under a cloudy sky. It started raining while we talked and cried; you walked me to my door and left, walking under the rain.

Though that's not the last time we saw each other. We were forced to meet sometime later because we both had to give some stuff back to each other. You recently told me you were kind of shocked when you saw me because I had grown my bangs out and had glasses all of a sudden. We didn't see each other again for two years, even when both of us went back to our small town for the holidays.

Some people say that if you keep meeting a person by chance, it's because you're not done with your joint story. I very openly disagree, or merely hope that's not true.

Even if I loved you at some point, and you were the best to me, teaching me what love is like, setting my standards high, we were not the best fit.

There is nothing else I can do but thank you for everything and ask for this chapter to close, even when your friends and my best friend think we're on our way to getting back together. That's not what I want.

(Not) Yours,

Bluu.

Gilmore Girls (an analysis on Rory's boyfriends)

If you are anything like me, longing for teen and coming-of-age 90's and 2000's shows, you definitely know we're about to dive into a (personal) analysis of one of the most talked-about shows of that era, and some of the most talked-about and debated on-screen couples.

Gilmore Girls is an all-time favorite show about life in a small town, mother-daughter relationships, growing up, and figuring yourself (and life) out. We're shown different family dynamics throughout the seasons and the characters: if you were young enough, you could've learned about growing up and literally coming of age alongside Rory, and one of my favorite things I learned about through the show: academic burnout.

But I'm not here to talk about any of that today.

I'm here to talk about Rory's boyfriends and her relationship dynamics.

This isn't meant to sound like relationship advice, or anything you should base your relationships or standards on; I know I definitely don't.

Puppy Love: Dean Forester

I personally describe Dean and Rory's relationship as puppy love. Yes, there was toxicity in the relationship,  and yes, there was cheating, but they were real.

No matter how much you hate Dean, you cannot say he didn't love Rory. He loved her deeply; he did everything she wanted to do, compromised, built her a car (even let Richard check it a bunch of times), did everything she liked even if he didn't really enjoy it because he just wanted her to be happy, and he paid attention; that boy loved her for years. He even wanted to look past her cheating because he wanted it to work; he wanted it to be forever.

Yes, he was flawed, but he was absolutely terrified of losing the love of his life.

Dean never stopped loving Rory. Not when they fought, not when she cheated, not when she dated Jess, not when she went away for school, not even when he tried to move on. 

He married Lindsay, trying to move on, as Rory did.

Rory wasn't intending to break his marriage just because she wanted him back or because she loved him (to be completely honest, I'm not sure she still did, as deeply as before, at least); she went back to Dean because she needed him, she needed a safe space, and that's what Dean gave her from day 1.

Dean gave Rory a space where she felt safe and loved, a space in which she knew that, no matter what, she would always have someone waiting for her with open arms.

They were a big codependent overthinker trying to be realistic and an incredibly avoidant person living in a fairytale.

Teenage Rebel: Jess Mariano

I'm sick and tired of people defending their hateful posture towards Jess behind a lame "he was better at yearning for her than at actually being her boyfriend".

Jess was a messed-up kid; he had his problems, but none of them were related to Rory. Almost every problem in their relationship was a direct result of Jess trying to protect her from himself. All of the getting closer to her just to run away wasn't with the intention to hurt her; it was just a kid trying to protect the person he liked, the person he felt so much for, from his own darkness and tormented mind speaking louder than his heart and touching her light. 

He wanted Rory so much that when he finally got her, he couldn't handle it, because it meant she would see all of him, and he was used to being superficial and staying in the shadows to protect those around him.

Like it or not, Jess was a very introspective and pensive person. Even if he didn't know how to deal with his thoughts and feelings, he knew the one thing he could do to protect the people he loved was staying at a safe distance and putting on this sarcastic, mean mask.

Let's also remember that a lot of what we think of when we think of Rory and Jess is pre- and post-relationship; this is where the "Was it casual" questions come into play, in my opinion, about these two.

Was it casual when Jess stole Rory's book when they first met, just to give it back to her with his own notes written in the margins?

Was it casual when he spent the night knocking down every snowman in the contest just so Rory's would win?

Was it casual when he spent $90 on Rory's picnic basket just to be able to sit with her?

Was it casual when Rory managed to cheat on two of her boyfriends, but never on Jess?

Was it casual when Rory ditched school and missed her mom's graduation to go see Jess in New York because he didn't say goodbye, and he was happy to spend the day with her?

Was it casual when he wanted Paris to like him because she was Rory's friend?

Yale Heartthrob: Logan Huntzberger

Logan is there to represent Rory's shift into adulthood; he's the shift from teenage innocence to adult dynamic realism. He represents adulthood with its complexity, compromises, and learning about maturity; he brings into question Rory's life and the privilege she doesn't realize she had, from his own privileged perspective.

We first meet him as this fun, single, heartthrob, privilege hurricane, which either makes you love him or hate him, but I objectively think that it helps us understand that Rory and her background fit right in his world, even when she doesn't realize that herself.

He's everything that Rory's not, personality-wise at least. Or maybe he's just the contrast of what Rory could've been had Lorelai stayed with Richard and Emily, but because that didn't happen, Logan's relationship with Rory is meant to explore how family expectations and class affect partnership.

Logan is the man who helps Rory build her confidence little by little and find her own voice, while also being a remaining part of the world that almost made her lose herself.

Not everything can be good, and we all know Logan is most definitely not perfect. 

He is the perfect example of a toxic elitist upbringing. If we were to list his flaws, I'd say some of them (and maybe some of the reasons he is not the one) could be: 1. his arrogance, which could be perceived as hot by some or annoying by others. 2. His carelessness towards other people's feelings; he makes Rory go through hard times several times, and other people too. 3. His inability to break free from the Huntzberger's expectations.

The Logan Huntzberger Flaw List could probably go on for way longer if you find a Logan hater, but I'm not one of them.

I do believe that Logan and Rory's relationship is like watching A Series of Unfortunate Events (relationship version), just break-up after break-up, but at least they managed to solve some of their problems along the way.

Which of Rory's boyfriends is your personal fave?

Thank you for stopping by!

xoxo, Bluu✨