I know you know that I like you.
I have told you I’m in love with you, but you probably think I’m only joking or half-serious. I wish you knew how I really felt. I wish I did.
You know I’m with him. You don’t ever seem to be jealous. I can’t even bear the thought of you going on a date with another woman, and here I am with a boyfriend. An amazing boyfriend who is sweet and kind and good.
And all I can think about is you. You are my fixation. You probably know that. You know I would drop my entire life for you (do you?).
Do you know that, tonight, in order to have sex with my boyfriend, I had to imagine he was you? All I could remember thinking was that if it really were you, it would be so much hotter. So much more romantic. So much better. I think you’re better. For me.
I wish you would just ask me to leave him for you. I wish you would call me more often. I wish you thought about me all the time. I wish you would give me inklings that you might reciprocate my feelings.
Remember that big, awesome, all-consuming love I was telling you that I believed in?
I’m hoping you’re it.