Yeah, this is going to be really dumb. And bad. But... I like you. I really, really like you. And it's kind of funny, because I'm writing this in the library right now, and there you are, standing not ten feet away from me, and I wish I could tell you all this and have it not freak you out. I've liked you (on and off) since first term freshman year. I got over you and eventually started dating A when I found out you were with someone else, but... the truth is that you've always managed to catch my eye, and make me really, really happy whenever I talk to you. And for a while, it hasn't bothered me that you don't want to be anything other than friends. But at the same time, you're the only person I've considered going out with since A and I broke up that I haven't been indifferent to or upset about. You just make me happy. I hope that you never read this, because I'm afraid it will just freak you out and make you not want to talk to me ever again. But I also hope that if you do read it, maybe you'll give me a chance.
Yeah, I need to get my head out of the clouds and stop wishing for romance. It's just a pain in everyone's ass. Honestly? A part of me never wants to love again.