You're trouble... we have a lot of chemistry and sometimes the world just catches on fire when we interact but we are both so hesitant to call it real. I love our shared fantasy, but I wish we could make something a reality... especially since I'm finding myself falling for the real you
If you could pick up where you left off with someone (Whoever that someone is/was) would you?
For someone so cool, you are very soft on the inside. It's okay to cry. I don't think you're weak for being upset over such serious past trauma as yours.
I wish you got to know me before I had feelings for you. For some reason, I just want you to keep seeing my good side. I know you don't see it, but I get shy when I talk to you. I want to be openly honest to you... but these dumb feelings are getting in the way.
I've liked you ever since I first met you. And when I heard your voice...you melted me like butter. So beautiful, so serene, so...warm. I could listen to you talk for days unending.
When I saw your face for the first time, I couldn't believe who I saw. A woman so sweet, so gorgeous that you didn't just leave me speechless. I was awestruck. I still am. Every. Single. Time. I see you. You've a kind soul. In your heart, I can see that you want what's right, what's fair, for everyone. You're a graceful person in everything you do. When I see you for the first time each day, I'm instantly calmed. You're trustworthy, reliable, and so poised. Your head is always high, no matter how you're treated, or what task you're doing.
God...your laugh! Not a single song in this world could ever compare. Whether it's the delayed one you have when you don't know you've said something funny, or the cute chuckle you get when you are telling a joke, or the really giggly one you get when someone makes a joke, they're all my favorite sound. The best part is, I get to hear a new laugh from you with each passing day.
You already know how beautiful I think you are...so I'm sure you know I like you. Like isn't the right word, though. I'm captivated by you. From the moment we met, I wanted to hear everything you have to say. It's difficult to put into words the emotional sensation of admiring you. What I feel towards you, it feels...whole. Healthy. And so, so right. There's not a bigot on this planet who could convince me my admiration for you is impure. I've never felt so sure of my feelings toward a person. When I think about how I feel for you, it feels safe. I feel protected.
I want to grow closer to you. I want to grow with you. It truly feels like I've hit the Mega Millions, having met you, come to know you, spend time with you, and call you my friend. Becoming your partner would take irrational odds. Yet a small part of me, the part of me that says they're ready to try to love and be loved again, so deeply wants you to call my number (pun intended).
The other parts of me are afraid. Not of my feelings for you, no, but of relinquishing the safety of burying the love I want to give. I've been hurt so many times, so it's not you I'm afraid of hurting me. I'm terrified of ever making you feel how so many men have made me feel. Of being so scared to love you that I neglect you. I could never consciously do that. I couldn't bring myself to become a part of your life and hurt you. I'll do all I can to protect you, always. And if that means containing my admiration for you in my heart, stowing it away from your eyes, and allowing it to dissolve into the friendship we have over the course of time, then I'll happily do so.
It won't make my heart beat any less erratically when I reread the card you gave me, or read texts from you with white hearts at the end. But I can live with that.
Yours in my heart,
it is not lost on me that realistically we were never, and never will be, ideal but rather an idea.
i think i have made peace with our fantasy,
and perhaps if we’re especially lucky, under a blue moon, we’ll cross in waking life and a dream or two just might come truer than not.
you have my heart, for better or worse. confusingly, stubbornly yours.
I’ve never liked conventionally attractive, popular men. I have a serious thing for the outcasts that have no idea how hot they are. Quirky habits and hobbies, dimensional taste in music, and strong convictions are my weakness.
Whatever you are. I know you loved me at least a little. I saw it in your eyes I felt it. I know you'd never say it. But I knew.
I fantasize about feeling like I'm allowed to touch you.
Rest my hand on your shoulder
Rub your back
Hold your arm
I want to envelop you
I don't really know if there's anything there. I don't know if I'm reading too much into the way you go out of your way to show up for me, the way you laugh at my jokes, the way you gaze into my eyes. When I'm with you, the air around me feels electric, and there's a part of me that thinks maybe, just maybe, you felt it too. But it's not like you call, or ask how I'm doing. People say that you're just too shy, or just too caught up in your work to do anything with romance — that you'll come around eventually. But it's been two years now.
I almost want to tell you how I feel, but what if I made everything up in my head? I don't know what's worse: making you uncomfortable and making a fool out of myself, or leaving everything up in the air like this.