I don't kid myself. I know I'm not perfect, that I have flaws as anyone does. But the fact
remains, that those things and more are what you are to me. If you could see through
my eyes for just one moment, you would understand.
You'll never know how much I have come to care about you, how much I adore every word
you speak or worship your every breath. No one will ever know but me. Whether you feel
the same or not is irrelevant because you'll never know. And if you do move away like
you mentioned you might, I'll probably die a little at not being able to see you as often.
I don't know why. Maybe it is love. Maybe I do love you. I don't know how or why. But
maybe I do.
I hope that if you ever do learn of these feelings that you'll be able to forgive me. I never
expected them, never pondered them, never asked for them. Yet I have them just same. I
am compelled to feel this way because it just seems like I should. And this little bit of
knowledge, these inexplicable feelings I have, would be enough to ruin our friendship,
and who knows what else. So they will stay buried in my heart, and in this letter. And
I will keep wishing, hoping that someday I can show you just how deeply these feelings
run, express to you this unexpected yet unflagging devotion, and treat you with all the
respect, sincerity and...and love that you deserve.
Yes...maybe love is exactly what this is.