Is it weird that I know almost nothing about you but I have this deep feeling for you, and I don’t want to call it love because if I do I’m just exaggerating this infatuation. Maybe I could love you, if you let me in, I would open the door to my heart just a crack so you could get a peek. I would let my hands crawl on your shoulders and listen to your stories, feeling myself intertwine into you. But these are just the words a silly little girl is writing for you. This truly is the sophomore slump sitting awake at three in the morning thinking of a boy who’s words had so little meaning. But they made me think maybe you wanted to call me yours only to realize that would never happen. Infatuation can make us do stupid things. Stupid things like pour your heart out over and over, just to get graced by your rejection. Infatuation hurts your heart, and raises this person on a pedestal so high it touches the sun, only to make them look even more desired because they are so far away from what you can have. I’m tired of being the *** end of this cat and mouse game where I keep chasing you only to fine out you were just using a toy, making me such a tool for letting this infatuation make me think your so perfect when you must have your flaws but I lay awake and try to think of one and I can’t muster anything more than he doesn’t like me back. But you say for now friends. I have heard that before so many times. I’d rather have my heart ripped from my chest and feed to the wolfs instead of you playing with my mind, having me cut out my heart and hand it to you myself. I know nothing about you (insert name here) but I am so infatuated that I’m laying awake at three in the morning letting this fire dance over my skin, feeling his pain and knowing this isn’t just a nightmare, but reality. A scary reality filled with my silly little words.