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Atsumu,
I know this letter will surprise you, and I can picture your shocked face as you sit down to read this, you'll run your hand through your hair and you'll wish you never opened you mailbox this morning. But Atsumu, please, if I still mean something, if we meant anything to you, continue.
Atsumu, I know you're angry at me, and you have every right to be. I'm angry at myself too. I'm angry that I never stopped you from leaving that day, I'm angry that I never tried to make things right between us, I'm angry that I couldn't treat you better and I hate myself more and more each day for not being able to show you how much you meant to me. Atsumu, you mean the world to me, you are my world, you are my everything, and I wish I could turn back time to tell you so.
Atsumu, I still have so much of explaining to do, but I'll start with the one I think you need to hear the most, Miya Atsumu, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I lashed out at you that day, loosing that match made me so much more frustrated then I thought I could ever feel, but it didn't give me any rights to shout at you, blame you. I felt remorse the moment those words left my lips, the look on your face in that moment broke my heart more than any of the words that came out of your mouth next could ever. And I'm so, so sorry that I didn't stop you from leaving then either. And from that moment on, there has been a pain in my chest and it has never left me since, and I know it's selfish of me but could you ever, ever find it in youself to forgive me? Even just a little?
And Atsumu, I miss you, more than the words in this letter can ever convey. I miss you so much that the mere thought of you sends tears rolling down my cheeks. And it hurts to think of you with somebody else because that somebody else isn't me. And it hurts me to think of how they'll make you laugh, how they'll make your dinner when you come home and you'll make your jokes and touch their face. And that won't be ME. and it hurts, because I still want you, I want to be your someone else. I want to come home to you, I want to touch you and feel your soft golden hair in my fingers and I want to hold you, hold you so close as we watch whatever stupid comedy reality show you're caught up in at the moment.
Atsumu, It's been 5 long, painful years since we yelled at each other, and each day that passes by, my heart grows heavier and my eyes get dimmer, just last week, I saw your interview on TV and for a moment I imagined that was me you were laughing with, I saw your sweet face scrunch up in laughter and I felt so unexplainablably happy. And Atsumu, when we played against each other last year, your presence on the court felt to comforting, even on the opposing team, but you wouldn't even look my way and it broke my heart all over again.
Atsumu, I still feel the same jitters everytime I see you, just as I used to when I first saw you on the court when we were both still young and immature 16 year olds. It's just like those jitters you get right before a big game. But they're warmer, and they make me feel a little more nervous. And I don't know how to explain this—feeling, I feel like I'm drowning—in happiness, and it's like nothing I've ever experienced before, It's suffocating and I hate it, but I'd miss it if it went away. And I've come to the realisation that I love you, Miya Atsumu, I know that I love you, I still do, I always will, you hold a place in my heart that no one could ever hope to replace.
I know I've never told you those words before, and that I never really showed you my love either, but I do, with all my heart, all my soul, I give you my love, if you want to have me again, I'd fall into your arms and never ever let go. And if you do want me again, my number is the same as always, my gym hasn't changed, but my address has, it's the one right next to you.
With love (and hopefully more to come),
Omi-kun.