play "Miss You" by Gabrielle Aplin
play "What Ifs" by Kane Brown & Lauren Alaina

This picture reminded me of you because of how spectacular your eyes are. I'm writing this letter pretending you'd actually read it one day. Ha.
Anyway, I want to say goodbye but I just can't.
We used to work together, and though the job was stressful, I looked forward to going when you were on the schedule.
Well, today I finally got to see you again. I stopped in to my old job, mostly because your car was in the parking lot. My heart raced.
And there you were.
And it was like I stepped back in time, to a day when I'd be starting my shift and the dish room was the first thing I'd see.
I've missed you, missed seeing you, because you don't really use Facebook, and how can someone be so gorgeous?
I work in a clothing store, now. Today, I had a thought and it may have been a big reason why I finally caved and visited...
"What if I was your girlfriend?" And as I helped fold men's clothing, I wondered what clothes you'd like or pick out. "What if we came here shopping together?" like couples sometimes do.
I'd had an impossible crush on you for a while, but never actually imagined being with you? I knew how impossible it would have been.
Holding your hand. Kissing you. You, looking at me...

I'm so tired. Mentally, physically, totally. I've been depressed for years, and there's so much I want out of life, but I fear I don't have enough ambition or motivation to experience it all. To experience you would be a dream, a blessing, but a fantasy... because you don't see me that way.
I can't imagine you seeing me that way.
It's that impossible.

I can't stop thinking about you, and maybe that's how crushes are.
Miserable.
I keep thinking back to that one night I drunk texted you calling you hot... and how you didn't hate me after... I guess we pretended it never happened. Good.

You were the only boy I'd ever drunk texted confessions to like that.
And that's what this is, a confession. Dreaming of you is like a guilty pleasure, and maybe that sounds weird, but you...
Please do something to make me stop obsessing over you.
Put me out of my misery.
Or maybe we could live happily ever after.
But I'll never tell you how I feel and you'll never tell me how you (probably don't) feel. Just know I'm here. Or don't. I don't know.