Oh no, this is not some silly love letter.
This is not a letter about proclaiming my
school girl feelings and fantasies.
Oh no, this is so much more than that, my dear.
You are one of the things that dare to make me happy.
But, not the kind of happy that you would think of.
When I think of you, the happiness you bring to me is a
kind of comfort. I feel so laid back, yet excited, yet really,
really in love.
I mean, you also bring me sadness.
When I'm around you I feel at home.
When I am not around you,
I know I'll see you soon.
The sadness you bring me is fleeting.
But, it is only because I know you will
never love me back.
Like I said, you are my Christmas morning.
But, you are also my New Year's Eve.
The fleeting moment, the fireworks, and good laughs.
I could keep going, but why should I?
You will never see these poems anyways.
I have written hundreds of poems about you,
and you will never know how I truly feel.
And if you do know, then I am so, so sorry.
It is not fair to you, nor me.
But I simply cannot help myself.
You are my everything.