Someday, I will have a life.
It will be fulfilling and complicated and hilarious and tiring and real. And fun. There will be work and alcohol and sex and public transportation and way more coffee than is healthy. There will be different cities within each year, and art, and better friends than I have now. There will be responsibility and sleep and maybe even, someday, children. And a crush like the one I have on you won't matter at all.
But today I am 17 and unusually lonely for my age and you matter much more than you should.