I can imagine your sweet, tender, loving voice saying these words aloud. But I have stopped you. I have stopped in you in hopes that I will be something serious. And not something as to what we are now: playful. I want you to give me that second opportunity that you said wouldn't exist. I want you to give it to me one day. But I wish to not have to ask for it, but rather earn it. After all, it is every young girl's desire. I wish there not exist a day, an hour, or even a minute where we stop speaking. And countless are the times that I've said I don't wish to speak, but only I know the burning desire that lies within me to talk to you. It's an aching desire, some may even describe it a feeling. Whatever it is, and whatever it shall be, won't detain one thing. It's repetitive and anxious. No game or playful word can go against it. It takes everything in, and word by word, it grows more. It grows until an unbearable point in time at which one must speak up for oneself. I'm not certain of your feelings for me. And I most likely never will be. For, I am a coward. Bearing sight of your presence will possibly cause me great fear. Fear not because of your presence, but because of the burning desire that kills me inside. I don't know where it'll lead me. But I know that today, it has led me as far as resorting to pencil and paper to write my feelings for you. Perhaps you'll never read this. For, friends don't read each other's scripts. But there was something about the way you just decided to say,
That sparked this desire in me. I am not sure if it took you courage, or fear, or perhaps the slightest emotion. But I have hopes that it did. And, although I may never tell you this, I don't want our talking to ever end. I wish to be the one who travels the world with you and supports every one of your dreams. I want to be the shoulder you can cry and rely on when you feel down. I want to be,
And although I said no, and I didn't accept the opportunity just this once, I still believe there will be another opportunity.
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