A letter I will never send.

Dear You;
I think I love you, but I'm scared to find out. I'm scared to let myself care about you when I know how likely it is you're leaving next year.
It's not as if I haven't thought about it. Considered what that would be like. Considered what you'd say, what would pass; it would be wonderful. And I know it would, which is why I'm so sorry that I feel like I can't act on this.

Words do not express the emotions you bring up in me. The desire to sit in your arms and forget everything; because that is something you bring up in me. Memory loss. I lose track of where I am, forget who I am standing with and what I'm standing on, thinking only that I'm mere inches away from you and that scares me.

I am worried, between now and when you leave, that I might lose control and act on the desires. The desires to grab your hand, to cry and plead with you not to leave me, because I don't know where I'll be after that. The desires to sit with my head on your shoulder, your arm around my waist with our fingers intertwined, makes me smile.

I hate that I will never be able to send this letter, that I won't tell you these things, because I don't want to hurt you or make you doubt yourself.

There are so many times where I doubt myself, where I wonder what I ever did to deserve how you feel about me. And I wish so much that I could act on it; but I don't want to cause that pain needlessly. I wish I could be guiltless, could act on impulse for once and not think about the consequences.

I wish there weren't any consequences. I wish I could come up to you and wrap my arms around you and not care. I wish I could express how much I need you. How much I overreact and over analyze everything you do because I want you to need me too. And I wish it wouldn't matter if you did. I wish I could trust myself enough to act out how I feel and not care what other people think.

But no. Instead, I'm going to sit here on e2 and think about adding this to the box of letters I will never send to you, and burn quietly after you're gone in an effort to try and forget about the way I want to kiss you every time I see you.