Dear EnglandDear England,More Like This
I've wanted to tell you the truth for some time now. I want to tell you how I feel, and why I am how I am. I would tell you in person, but I can't muster the strength. So this letter will have to do. This is my side of the story.
At first, I thought it was just brotherly love, or admiration. I always wanted to be with you, and I couldn't stand it when I wasn't. When I got a little older, I realized that it was more than admiration. I saw I had a crush on you. It was sorta like how kids have crushes on their teachers. I thought it would just be a phase, that I would get over it. But as I grew up, my feelings only strengthened. These feelings didn't go away, and it scared me. I wanted to be more than just your brother. I loved you, but I saw I could never be with you. Unless we split. That was when I decided to leave. I didn't revolt to hurt you, or to make you less. I did it because I loved you too much. I had to stop being your brother, so I could have a chanc
AffectionWhy, why can't anybody like me. I know Spain does because how obviously he shows his affection, but other than him who reallyMore Like This
cares about Romano? No one, everybody loves my ignorant brother. I don't hate him, but I can't help but envy him.
He has all of Germany's attention, and everybody like him better. Why, why does he get all the attention?
Anyway, somehow I've found myself having dinner, with my idiot brother, and the potato bastard. I don't understand, yes I
Insult him and act as if I hate him, but why can't he like me. Yet again my brother gets the affection I desire. It's not
fair, I'm a part of Italy and the title goes to my younger brother. No one acts as If I'm South Italy, no it's Romano.
I don't get it at all.
I glance up from my plate of pasta to see my brother clinging to the tall German. I sighed and looked back down at my
pasta poking at it with my fork.
"Romano, are you alright?" I looked up again upon hearing the potato bastards voice. I give him my Usual glare.