You have barely spoken a few words to me, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I think you’re beautiful, funny, and unlike the other men in my life, we seem to have a lot in common. But I’m nobody; if you even remember that I exist, I’m just a young woman with a failed marriage and a kid. You have given me hope though; I look at you and I want to be happy and trust again, which is something I never thought would happen again after D. I wish I had the courage to talk to you, but I’m terrified you’ll laugh at me or ignore me.
I hate feeling like this, and if there was something I could do to change it I would.