Just a little fic that I've rattled off in about half an hour. I got the inspiration and just started writing, so I hope you like it. I've decided I quite like these little one sided reflections, but I've got several other veronica mars fics in mind as well! All LoVe of course, because really what else is there? Anyway, this is set near the beginning of season 2, around Cheatty Cheatty Bang Bang. No spoilers really, as long as you're schooled up till that point. Enjoy.

I wish I could make you understand, Logan Echolls, just how easy it is for me to love you. I wish I could make you realise that I understand you, and the reasons why, time and again, you act like a jerk. I know you think that I hate you, and maybe I do, a little, but I love you more.

I dumped you that summer because I didn't understand you anymore, and it scared me; not knowing why you were doing what you were doing. It wasn't until I thought back over your actions in those long nights at the suite, listening to you and Kendall going at it next door, that I finally understood. And once I did, I couldn't wait to have you back.

But nothing is ever that simple, is it? You have your trashy trophy-wife, and I have Duncan, my bland but safe 'Prince Charming'. I thought about walking into your room and taking you back, with whatever means necessary, but we've all got to live together, and there would have been no point risking it all when I know you're so happy in your no-strings fling. Damn, I've got to stop with the alliteration and rhyming. I don't even like English!

But that's the point, isn't it. Just thinking of you, writing this letter, makes me go all giddy and start using poetic devices. Love really does make poets out of men. Or women.

And there it is. I've finally said it, I'm a poet because I'm in love, and I'm not in love with the boy sleeping beside me right now. I'm in love with the boy next door, the boy who for once is doing something other than banging Kendall Casablancas. You know, Logan, the fact that you're not with her right now gives me a weird kind of hope. Like, maybe you've decided to stop seeing her, however good a lay she is. But I've realised that it's Wednesday, and as I've heard her tell you so often, she's got cocktails with the girls tonight. Do you think she's actually with girls, Logan? Or do you know, in you heart, just like I do, that she's with some other rich guy – very probably her husband.

But then, who am I to talk? I spend every available night over here at the suite, and although I've tried long and hard to convince myself that I come for Duncan, I don't want to lie to myself anymore. I'll lay it out there, I come to see you. I come as much as possible because, since you've taken to skipping more school than ever, I wouldn't see you at all. And that would have killed me. It's bad enough that I can't be your girlfriend – your insane antics last summer and my lack of trust and understanding have probably put paid to that notion forever – but not to see you at all would have burnt up those last remaining pieces of my heart.

Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that you want me back, that you're just using Kendall as a distraction. But who am I kidding? I was probably the distraction between rich, experienced girls. But even as I write it, I know that isn't true. You loved me. I just wish I'd been brave enough, wish I'd understood then, so that I could say it back. Because I loved you – I still do.

I wish we could work through our issues, because I've grown up, and so have you. I understand you better than I ever have before, and I love you more than I did when we were dating. Maybe it was when your house got razed to the ground that I realised it, because damn I always loved you more when you were vulnerable, attacked. I don't love Duncan any of the time, but he's hung up on me, even more so than when we were together before. I guess that's what happens when you give someone your virginity twice – once when you don't remember and once when you do. But surely, if that was the case I'd be more in love with him. Instead I'm in love with the guy who never got that far with me, who was patient and understanding, and knew what I wanted almost better than I did.

I don't know why I'm writing this. After all, if I really wanted you to know all this then I'd just go next door and tell you myself. But I don't think I do want you to know, I think this letter is for me. You're never going to read this letter, Logan Echolls, and neither is Duncan. I'll probably burn it when I finish, just to make sure that no one ever sees it.

But I needed to do this, I need the closure. I need to tell myself that I still love you and that I've either got to do something about it or move on.

Somehow I have the feeling that I'll be making myself moving on.