Hey. You’ll probably never see this but fuck it I guess. I’ve liked you for so fucking long it’s insane. I’m not going to say love, because I didn’t give it the opportunity to turn into that. I’ve given you so much of my time and energy and you’ve returned it ten fold. You’re endlessly kind and patient. You’re creative and intelligent. But you’re hurting. And it would be selfish of me to impose my feelings on you when you barely can grasp your own. I worry about you. I worry about the nightmares I worry about the thoughts I worry that you’re hurting yourself trying to help other people. It’s your best quality, but also your fatal flaw. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re too good. Maybe that’s why I fell for you. Maybe I do love you.