I can’t tell you why I’m writing this. I can tell you that it feels right. I’m listening to your record to get a feel for you and I’m lighting coffee scented candles to help me miss you more clearly. I’m scared to write. I miss you so much sometimes. Even when you’re right next to me. It’s annoying. I always doubt myself around you. I think you think I call you pretty too much. You are so ******* pretty. I feel distant, but then you look up at me and I’m reminded that I am an idiot for missing someone so near to me. Then I think of how ******* lucky I am. And how perfect you are. And I go home and light candles and write of how I wish I had the guts to say “I love you.” And how I wish I had the guts to believe that you would say it back. You can call me a coward for putting it in writing, but it’s still true. I love you.