I only wish you knew how much I care about you, how badly it feels to have such a broken heart. I’m ashamed of the thoughts that creep into my head sometimes, the sophmoric acts I do because,..
You see, I’m in love with you. I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you. Every spirited, ornery, feminine, feminist, beautiful, sexy, divine part of you. I don’t even know how it happened, but it surely did. Seven years is not a crush.
I wish you cared about me the way I care about you. I’m resigned to the fact that will never happen. I wouldn’t stand a chance, for everyone else is in love with you too.
But I want you to know, I liked you before you became friends with You-Know-Who and her millions of fans. And it wasn’t just because you’re pretty. I would never settle for something like that. I hope you can see that I am not that simple. But seven years later, I can’t forget you. What I saw in you. The Little Things. You are uniquely special. To me you are complex, delicate, intelligent, stylish, sophisticated, compassionate, tempestuous, courageous. I adore you far more than I have the words to express.
It seems silly to say things like that because we’ve never met. But is it so silly to feel like we have? After all, you are my dreamgirl.
I think about you. So often. Always. Always. That’s why it hurts so much. To let go. To realize that, as many times as I’ve thought of you, dreamed of you, of holding your hand, exchanging knowing glances over a romantic candlelight, that will never happen. You’re simply better than silly things that.
Do me one favor before you go off on your journey to be famous. Please flash that genuine, innocent smile again. The one I saw years ago when I saw you play. When I saw you I thought you were an angel. Please let me see that beautiful smile one more time.
And please be happy.
No matter what, I will always, always be in love with you.