You know I'm real...
Today has been horrible.
I'm so very bitterly disappointed, but I knew it was coming... you know, where its too good to be true, and - just as you expected - it falls spectacularly to pieces...
This is something I possibly should have told you before.
Anytime I had the chance would have been fine.
Any five minute "window of opportunity".
But anytime I'd have with you, I'd get too caught up, I'd get sidetracked by you - something you said, something you did, something you hadn't said or done, something I'd hope you'd say or do. I'd get caught up in you - to me you're still a mystery, and that both scares and excites me.
It scares me because I can't predict you yet - and I don't want things to go wrong. I don't want this to be like every other "thing" I've had for someone, where it goes nowhere, and I keep hoping against hope that one day they'll wake up and realise I'm the girl of their dreams, and I deserve a shitload better than I'm treated. I want you to be different because you are.
You are special.
You make me feel like I always wished I'd feel - like I'd hoped against hope that I'd feel one day.
For one week you made me feel like I'd always wished I could feel...
An entire week!
Who'd have thought you'd be the one to make me feel so loved - to make me feel love...?
It excites me because, well, there you are. And here I am. And there WE are. "We" is the friends we've become, the friendship that it scares me I might screw up. I love that feeling that I get when I think about you. Some say it's more than a crush, some even go as far as to bandy about words like "like" and "love". The truth is though, this is like no crush I've ever had. I've honestly never felt like this. I'm growing up, maturing, and it seems obvious to the world.
Do I want something to develop between us?
That would be simply grand.
I have dreams about you.
I hugged you so fiercely and you made me feel like I was the only one in the world.
But you don't know, do you?
You don't know how I feel about you - you wouldn't have the faintest idea.
Sometimes I wonder if you even know I'm here.
You don't wonder about me, who I am, what I do.
You make no effort to "get to know me better".
But you know I'm real, as you feel remorse for the tears that escape down the lengths of my cheeks...
Oh. I DO mean something.
And you mean too much.