Writing Letters to a Ghost Town.

I'm not good at putting things in my perspective. Hell even if I put something in First Person its always through someone else, no hint of me beyond my writing. But, there's something in my life that just, has taken up so much time and thought, for really no reason.
For a time being, I was, not obsessed but I'd say overly enamored with a particular friend, lets call them Bravo, using the NATO code. Bravo was a very...odd friend, someone who I barely talked to but made all the effort in the world to be close to. At the time of our first meeting and forming our friendship, me and Bravo were always, distant I guess. I was a loner, trying my best not to be noticed by anyone, and they were, to me outgoing and confident, able to approach any situation and any person and engage immediately in conversation and dominate it.
As I matured, broadened my net of friends and became more active socially and personally with other people, I still saw Bravo as someone beyond my reach, or capacity to entertain; I have issues concerning myself, a topic for another day.
Bravo seemed unable to make stumble, unwilling to compromise with society in it's slow moving ways, instead taking the most audacious route and not caring who noticed.
I was, to tell you the truth, in love with this fact about them, and possibly Bravo. However I also noticed a strange dependency on the close circle of friends Bravo kept, people who were in another string of personal oddities that prevented me from really going out of my way to get to know them.
Following certain events and a relationship which, had I not been immature and actually thoughtful, might have turned out as a life match, my relationship with Bravo deteriorated...to me.
I saw myself becoming this, overbearing, unbearable person who...didn't really have a grip on what to do with a simple crush. I called too much, I left odd messages, and I took physical acts between me and Bravo as...more than they actually were.
At least I saw it that way, the paranoid bastard I was...am...was...
Am.
I'm really bothered by this.
This whole situation.
I mean, Its not their fault that I cant shut up when I need to or just hold back certain things at certain moments. See there I go again.
Well... back to the point.
Bravo, is a great person in my life. They gave me advice through some tough times and was an object of my developing sexual personality; exchanging dirty jokes, making lewd conversation, sharing awkward moments of heated ... passion sounds too over the top... I'll just say sluttishness...yeah that works out.
I'm not a great person. I've sinned and done some pretty stupid things in my life. I'm sure that through others, Bravo has heard of my worse transgressions. To be honest.
I just wish that I could fix ... see even that sounds off to me because I'm not sure there's anything broken in the first place, its not like me and Bravo would go out every Saturday evening to sit by the river and toss bread to the agitated ducks nearby and reminisce about our younger days while I slowly slipped into a deep sleep.
As you can tell I have a flair for taking something and exaggerating it.
To my own credit, I cant say I didn't try to patch things up following some odd shift in my life. But to my own berating, I have to say I stuck too close to old guidelines that made our interactions nothing more than one dirty joke followed by an update on one's day and then just utter silence.
Bravo is this strange person. Someone I cant get a fix on, someone who defies the usual personality traits and markers I can pin on almost everyone I meet. Bravo is better than me, better than everyone.
At least... that's how I used to think of them. It was some weird idolizing over someone that... just... didn't make sense.
I wish I could go back, to the very beginning, when me and Bravo sat next to each other in my history class, to that moment when they turned around and made a comment on the teacher's pet in the class and waited for my chubby, drawn face to utter something, and just nod, keeping my silence till the next moment of spontaneous conversation starting, to where I could respond and go on to make a regular, healthy friendship that wouldn't self-implode because of my skewed mental methods of thought.
I wish...I really do.
I've grown up. Within a few weeks I can change completely, mentally anyways, so believe it or not I'm past all... that. But I'm not sure that I can re-boot anything with Bravo, or if either of us would really want to.
I'm not even sure its of any consequence for either of us to even try.
Well, Thats...it actually, just a summary of things.
Not sure weither this is an Essay...or a rant.
Its just...something.

Do you really want your innermost thoughts and feelings critiqued? Well, I'll just say a few things.

Obviously, this had a very intimate, spoken type of feel. Like a stream of consciousness. But in creating this feel, the grammar is kind of confusing at points.

For a time being, I was, not obsessed but I'd say overly enamored with a particular friend, lets call them Bravo, using the NATO code.

This is a little hard to read. May I suggest an edit: "For a time, I was... not obsessed, but maybe overly enamored with a particular friend. Let's call them Bravo, using the NATO code." I think using italics could give it the same spoken feel but make it more readable.

I really wish you had assigned Bravo a gender, just for readability & attachment to the story. But of course, this is really just your feelings, so I have no business to tell you how to do it.

It was an sad, interesting, enjoyable, confusing read.
Rachel

I agree with Rachel in that it was a slightly confusing read, but it seems as though that doesn't concern you, I mean, these ARE your thoughts after all. It isn't necessary for anybody to be able to interpret them, because I get the impression that even you are trying to interpret them.

On a grammatical scale, I think all the extra commas are effective in speech, but an author would say they aren't necessarily important here. Of course, I have no idea whether you were just getting this off your chest or actually seeking to improve it at a writing standpoint, so you could simply disregard everything I'm typing.

Just a quick comment:

"I have to say I stuck too close to old guidelines that made our interactions nothing more than one dirty joke followed by an update on one's day and then just utter silence." I can relate to that more than you could imagine.

I don't know if you meant this to be melancholy or maybe oddly comedic, but either way it was fascinating and a refreshing break from what my friends tend to rant about.