I’m in love with you. That’s all I can really say. I’m too scared to say it to your face though. We’re friends with benefits. I’m kind of sick of it, but feeling your arms around me is something that I crave. Maybe its your ridiculously entrancing blue eyes. Or the way that you’re so perfectly unkempt. But I think I’m really starting to enjoy you, maybe more than I should. I talk to you about anything, I can tell you things that I can’t tell anyone else. I might even tell you that I’m a Trichatillomaniac someday. I really just wish I had the guts to say something to you. But I can’t do it. I’m too scared you’re not interested. And I’m not much into making a fool of myself. Maybe somehow you’ll see this and get a hint. Maybe someone else will see this, and think it’s for them. We’d laugh about that. I just hope something will work out. I really want you. But at the same time, I like what you are to me. If I had you around for sure, I don’t know if I would like you the same way. I want to try, though. I’d offer you an apology, but you have no idea that I admire you so much. I hope I grow out of it while you’re away and while I’m away, but I have a feeling I’m not going to.