Title from: Skinny Dipping by Sabrina Carpenter

Dear Ellie,

Writing this letter feels stupid because in my head we can speak whenever we want and I should be able to tell you anything. You're my best friend in the whole world, I should be able to just talk to you about this. But I can't. Because I fucked this all up between us with my ego and being a complete coward. And an even bigger idiot (you're going to hate me even more for starting a sentence with 'and' aren't you?).

The day I left Rouen for Milan was probably one of the worst of my life.

I could barely bring myself to look at you that morning, every time I thought about leaving (mostly leaving you) it was just too much. It made me not want to go. So that's why I didn't wake you up. Selfishly, like so many of the things I've done, I knew it would hurt me too much. I could say goodbye to this town, my family (of course knowing they would visit), friends and my home and be fine. After all, moving away for Formula One is what I've dreamed of since the day we met - you know that better than anyone. However, I just couldn't get past leaving you.

You looked so peaceful there, so beautiful, sleeping in my bed, wearing my t-shirt with your hair all over the place. I just couldn't bring myself to wake you and say goodbye. I thought it might kill me if I did.

So instead I wrote you the stupid note and left without saying a thing.

I know it hurt you. Even if you didn't say it over the phone, when we spoke I knew it wounded you. I could tell by the sad edge to your voice and the way you would avoid talking about the day I left. Valetin told me how you cried to Jasmine. I've never felt so awful. The note was the cowards way out - I knew it then and I know it now. That was the start of me running away from my problems (and you).

I've come to realise that I'm great at running away. Everytime something happens that I don't like, any problems I have, I find it's much easier to ignore, avoid the problem completely, than face it. I suppose that's sums up our relationship (or lack of) over the last year. You probably know this already though. You've always known everything about me, every single detail.

Apart from one thing.

The most important thing about me and the thing that's destroyed us. And it's that I love you Ellie.

I've loved you since we were fourteen and you waltzed into school and sat next to me. I can't remember the class, but I remember it was December. Your hair was shorter than it is now (well, shorter than it was when I left, the last time I saw you. I haven't seen you in so long, Mum says you look the same though). You wore a red Christmas jumper with these white sequins on that made a snowflake shape. I made a stupid comment about how nobody should be that excited about Christmas, that we're fourteen and it's was way too old to be that excited for the holiday.

I thought I was cool.

You got defensive and told me that anybody who doesn't like Christmas is a liar. I was a liar. My cheeks got red, and I didn't say a word to you after that other than a 'thank you' for correcting every answer on my homework for me. I went up a grade in every class that year. Maybe Mum loved you more than me at that point, but I still loved you. I can remember the excitement threat would shoot through me every time I saw you heading my way, your shining smile pointed at me. It was love.

I first realised I loved you when you crashed your bike into my car the week I got it. I was so furious you had dented the blue metal so quickly after I bought it. But when you turned to me with those tears in you're eyes I realised I would've done anything to make them go away. They made me sick. I didn't know what to do with that, this overwhelming feeling inside of me that wanted, no...needed me to fix everything so you never looked at me like that again.

It's why I didn't speak to you for those six days after. Not because I was mad at you for denting the bumper (it was an honest accident, I know), but because I was in disbelief at myself for feeling this way. How could I feel this way about you? About my best friend in the whole world? I didn't want to believe it. Especially when you so clearly didn't feel the same way about me. I suppose this is where my avoidance of my problems relating to you began.

I loved you most when you turned to me on my last night here and told me to go for it. To 'go to Milan and make this the best team ever, because they already have the best driver on the grid'. I almost broke down in the street when you said the words, the alcohol, the whole situation and my feelings burying me right in front of your eyes. Your belief in me shone so brightly and I choked. I don't think anybody has ever supported me the way you have - nobody else would have stood by the karting track every other weekend at 16 like you did, I'm sure of it.

I didn't know what to do with all the feelings and aches in my chest. So I made you a promise, and we stumbled back to mine, as we usually did.

I told you I loved you that night.

Not in the way we usually would, with the words casually said. I told you that I loved you, really loved you, always had and always will. I told you I loved you like nobody else in the entire world, then you just...didn't reply. It stung so much, it broke my heart. It was like I could hear it, cracking open inside of my chest, my whole body aching with the sting of rejection.

I'll never forgive myself but it's why we stopped talking. Or rather, why I stopped talking to you. It hurt too much knowing you didn't feel the same way as me. It hurt too much not being in the same place as you, not being able to see and talk to you whenever I wanted. I was jealous of Valetin whenever he mentioned that he'd saw you. I was jealous of my Mum when she brought you up in conversation. I hated that you didn't feel exactly the same as me and it felt like my heart was aching every time I heard your voice or saw your face over the phone.

So that's why.

The big explanation that I've owed you so badly. I'm sorry I didn't share it sooner, my pride got in the way. But you deserved to know, especially after everything I've put you through. Plus, I miss you so much that I think that if I have to return to Rouen without seeing you one more time my heart will explode (I know really, probably thanks to you, that's impossible). At least this letter gives me an excuse to see you, eventhough I know you won't want to see me.

Not that I blame you.

I really hope you read this and don't tear it to pieces in front of my face or refuse to take it, or don't read beyond the first page. Most of all, I just really hope you don't hate me too much, I already hate myself enough for everything I've done.

The one thing I don't hate myself for is that I never forgot the promise I made to you on my last night. Being honest I've never forgot a single word you've ever said to me, but that last night stands out more than any other. I remember every second of that night. I couldn't possibly ever forget it. I refuse to.

The win you wanted? I got it!

I hope you know that.

I hope you watched it on TV. I hope you watched every second of the race to see it all, because when I headed down that final straight and it dawned on me that I had won, finally won a race, all I could see is you. All I could think about was you, having you there, how much I missed you and how much you would've loved the win for me. How proud you would've been of me. How much I would've loved to have you in my arms in that moment. So (rather selfishly [yes I know, I have no right]) I hope you watched and all you could see was me.

I wish you had been there to see me at the top of the podium (or even join me on it).

If you didn't watch it I hope you saw it in the news and smiled, I hope you knew (or now know) that the trophy is yours. It's because if you, your belief and support of me. I hope you know that I stood on the podium that day at Monza holding the star shaped trophy and just thought to myself 'this is for my Ellie'.

When the champagne was gone and the crowds disappeared I sat at the top of the podium with my head in my hands, tears in my eyes just thinking of what I'd say to you. There were no words to explain everything. No words that could ever convey my gratitude for having you in my life. For bettering it so much.

Then I thought, maybe an action could.

As promised, the trophy is dedicated to you.

It's right there, your dedication, 'Ellie Ricci' written on the heavy silver metal. Your name is scratched (professionally, before you panic) neatly on the underside of the star-shaped trophy - your trophy.

It sits in my living room in Milan. I look at it every day wishing I had the guts to claim you like I claimed that win. I look at it every day tormenting myself of what could've been if I wasn't a complete coward, if I hadn't fucked everything up with avoidance tactics and my huge ego.

I don't know how to end this all. It feels very heavy, not like it should between us. I suppose that's the point though, isn't it? I'm writing this in the hope that at some point there can be a 'between us' once again. A part of me knows I'm writing this so I can forgive myself a little for treating you so badly.

Just know that how ever much you hate me Ellie, I hate myself so much more. I'm truly sorry, completely, for everything and I love you so much I just didn't know what to do. It doesn't matter that you don't feel the same way because after everything I've come to realise that I'll take you however I can get you Ell.

Feel free to come and collect your trophy, I meant what I said - it's yours.

Just like I am and will always be.

All my love,
Your best friend,

Pierre

———-
WELP

This was feely
❤️