Dear You,

You make me uncomfortable.

I don’t know if you this, I don’t know if you’re aware, or if you can’t tell because you’re uncomfortable too, or if you just haven’t noticed yet, but you make me so incredibly uncomfortable. This is because I’ll never be able to tell you who you are to me. Acquaintances at best, and I love to imagine all the beautiful things that must go through your head, all the beautiful things i’ll never get to know.

I don’t know if I love you, but I do know that I want to be around you all the time. I want to know you, I want to know why you are who you are, and what makes you happy so that I can learn how to make you happy.

I don’t know why I want you to be happy, but I know that it’s my fault for never having the courage to see if I love you, to see if I can help you. It’s my fault for never having enough courage to tell you that I want to explore you more than anything in the world and I’ll never get to.

Love or not love,
Me, age 17