It's not about the summer anymore. It's just about how I miss you, now. How I've never been brave enough to tell you how much I want to be friends with you, more than I am already (which, considering, is not very much). I keep thinking, "She has cooler friends." "She won't want to hang out with you." "Her other friends are more beautiful and popular and she won't want to talk to you." These are my thoughts. This is how I feel whenever I think I'm brave enough to go talk to you. Clue? I'm not brave enough.
These letters are so much easier for me to write to you when I'm writing them to "nobody." When I think that maybe there's a chance you won't ever see these words, these letters, know my feelings.
Your friendship would mean the world to me. It would mean the world to a loner-geek like me who has always wished that I was more than just one of those people you say, "hello" to in the hallway. Of course, I don't even see you in the hallway. Sometimes I glance near where I can sometimes see you, or hope I'll see you and maybe hope that I won't be too scared to catch up to you.
Wishing never gets anything done.
Feets don't fail me now, my head says. My feet aren't what's failing me. I'm failing me. Friendship is so important to me and it's like if I don't try now, to forge a friendship with you, that I never will, either because I'll be too scared or ... you'll be gone.