There are so many things I want you to know, so many things that I want to say but can’t. I’ll say them here.
When I first met you, we just happened to be attending the same event. You were a friend of a friend. There was nothing special about the encounter. Over time, we became part of the same little group and, over time, people grew and moved on to new places, new jobs. It wasn’t until our original mutual friend had to leave that I realized the whole thing might come crumbling down – that person was like the glue that held us all together. That was the first time I realized I would miss you, and I was surprised by it.
You stayed. I was glad.
The group dwindled, though, and those of us that were left formed closer bonds. As we continued to hang out, I made it a point to get to know you better. Every time I learned something new about you I was excited to learn we had more in common. You seemed excited, too, which made me happy. Sometimes it felt like we were meant to find one another in all this chaos, meant to be friends. I realize I still don’t know much about you in the grand scheme of things, but our time together is limited. It might look suspicious if we spoke only to one another in social settings.
At some point, I started to notice myself sitting closer to you. It wasn’t intentional, at first. Then I found myself hoping that I had arrived in time that the seat next to you would be empty. After a while, I even came to think of it as “my” spot. I wondered if you were secretly saving the seat for me, but tried to push that wishful thought out of my mind. Once I realized I was feeling this way, I made the conscious decision to choose other seats. I forced myself to make conversation with others first and avoid eye contact with you. I had to. Each time we caught one another’s eyes I felt lightning course through my body. Sometimes I would look too long and find myself at a loss of words. Sometimes I started to forget our company, our surroundings…
I wanted to kiss you.
I want to kiss you.
But I can’t tell you that… Telling you so would be unfair. It would be out of line. If you were to say you felt the same way, I would feel elated! But the guilt of my actions would consume me. Even if you forgave the transgression, the compromise of my own morals would convince me that I acquired something unjustly; that I am unworthy. So, you see, I can’t say it.
But I can write it. And if you happen to read it, and if you happen to know that this is about you…
What I want you to know is that I can’t get you out of my mind. I look for you in crowds, on the train. I sometimes make up reasons to go out, just so that I might run into you. You’re like a plague in my mind (a pleasant, but torturous one). I think about you so constantly that I have to make up tasks to distract myself – I have to will myself to change the subject. And when I do get to sit next to you, it’s as though every other moment of my life I’ve been missing something without realizing it.
I love you.
I understand, I can’t expect you to respond because you’re with the person you’re with and I respect that. I just really wanted you to know. And if/when things should fall through with this person, I will be here.