I remember when we first met. I couldn't stop staring at you and I wanted to know you so bad. When you said I was beautiful, I think I might've fallen for you. But maybe it was all platonic. That was two years ago. Do you ever think of me? We haven't talked. I miss you, but it's just not the same. Lots of love

i love those clay projects you gave me.

Why does it feel so good but hurt so bad?

I would have preferred honest confrontation but no matter, Ill always remember you as brilliant