To read the origin behind the Unsent series of blog posts, go here.

Dear Penny,

How’s it going? Do you think you did well on that English final? It was pretty tough, huh? Thankfully, whatever my paper lacked in clarity it made up for in redundancy.

This is Kevin, by the way. Yes, the one from English class. And yes, the same Kevin who always orders grilled chicken salad sandwiches from the cafeteria. Do you make those sandwiches, or do you just serve them? Because if it’s the former, I am really going to regret not sending you this letter sooner.

I know you liked me. And this letter is my passive-aggressive way of saying I liked you, too. When you would ask me about English class while we both waited for my sandwiches to be grilled, I wasn’t simply humoring you when I would answer and then ask you the same questions. I was sincerely interested. And no, it wasn’t just because I was hypnotized by the aroma of chicken salad.

And when I would catch you looking at me in class before you’d quickly turn away in embarrassment, I wasn’t thinking, “Gosh, such a silly girl.” No, I was thinking, “Go talk to  her after class, you idiot. Man up.”

And no, my wanting to talk to you had nothing (okay, little) to do with my wanting the chicken salad recipe.

I’ve been wanting to tell you for months that I’ve given you the nickname “Pretty Penny” in my head. One, because you are. Two, because alliteration is awesome. And three, because “Pretty Penny” is the name of a Stone Temple Pilots’ song.

In other words, this nickname is the highest form of flattery I know.

So why did I never come talk to you? Why did I never direct our cafeteria conversations away from chicken salad and English class and towards more personal topics? Why am I just now writing you this letter when the semester is over and I’m a mere days away from transferring to a different school?

Because I’m a kid. Yes, I might be of legal age and I might be absent of any childlike features (save for my adorably brown eyes), but I am nonetheless a kid.

This semester overwhelmed me. I was away from home. I hurt my arm and had to quit playing baseball, a sport that has defined me since I was six years old. I had an insane roommate. And, yes, my classes were difficult.

But a man would have been able to deal with these issues and still asked you on a date for dinner (I like chicken salad sandwiches, in case you hadn’t heard) and a movie (Costner’s Tin Cup is in theaters). But I was not a man. I was a kid. And I’m sorry.

Anyway, there you have it. Better late than never, right? I can only hope a decade or so from now, I will have made it into full-fledged adulthood. I will have learned from my past mistakes. I will have learned to take chances. I will have learned how not to  let life get in the way of me pursuing things that are worth pursuing.

Especially if said things have been given Stone Temple Pilot inspired nicknames and have the ability to create amazing chicken salad sandwiches.

Love,
Kevin

P.S. If you do know the recipe to that chicken salad, please mail it to the enclosed address.