That’s it. I know I’ve told you over and over again I don’t like you, but I do. I like you. A lot. People at our school knew, of course. My mouth said no, but everything else screamed YES. You asked me a thousand times, and each time I shook my head instinctively, afraid that you might discover the truth.

The thing is… I don’t know why I’ve hidden it. Maybe it’s because I’m shy. Or maybe because you already have a boyfriend. A 2-year-long relationship, to be exact. Why, then, do I even like you? I can’t have you, that’s for sure. All the times you fought with him, I stupidly advised you to work it out and get back with him. I was such a good friend. And a moron, too.

I think that’s it. I made myself too good of a friend to you when in reality I wanted to be more than a friend to you. I made a terrible mistake. All you see in me now is a friend and nothing more. It makes me so sad. I could have sabotaged your relationship earlier and be that guy who would lift you up when you were down, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s not the way I am. What kind of friend would I be to you if I sought only my happiness disregarding what makes you happy?

I like you. That I know for sure. Or maybe it’s lust. Or maybe I’m falling in love. All I know is that I get nervous everytime I have you around. Everytime I talk to you, my mind gets all tangled up because all I can think of is how beautiful you are. A thousand times I’ve wondered what a kiss from you might feel like, yet I know no mental picture will ever be as good as the real thing. What a torture it is to have you right there with me every day and not be able to hold you in my arms and kiss you!

Sadly, though, I think I’ll die before I can kiss you. It’s not that I don’t want, it’s just that I can’t. You seem happy with him now. And all you see in me is a friend because I’ve never had the guts to tell you how I feel. Losing you would destroy me. I don’t want to scare you. Once, you told me you had no real friends except for me. Everyone else was your friend just to be your boyfriend. How can I tell you, then, that I like you, too? You would think I’m just like the others… but I’m not.

I’m not.