Dear H,
Your name's sort of unique compared to the other guys. I mean, you're the first person I've met named like that. And being me, the semi-shy-semi-friendly girl, I've met lots, so that's pretty much an achievement.
The first time I saw you, I had no clue as to who you were. You, to me, were just part of the group of seniors who were seemingly nice. What's special about that? Well, I don't know either. But I never thought I'd turn my head around, wanting to glance at you for the second time.
I asked my female classmate the renowned question. "Do you know who that guy is?" And of course, she answered your name while poking me in the ribs, probably thinking you're my crush. And she's right.
H, as she said your name, my heart suddenly hammered in my chest. Really.
Your name had a magical ring to it, though I don't know why. I've never had the chance to say it out loud to call you, but ... I really want to.
Only ... I can't. I can't, and I won't.
Why? Well, H, there are lots of reasons.
One, I'm still semi-shy despite my writing of these letters on-line. Two, we're not close enough so that I can call you by your first name. You're still my senior, after all.
But those reasons are the shallow ones. There's more.
I can't call you out loud, I can't tell you my feelings ...
Because my best friend has a crush on you, and she noticed you before I did.
The worst part? She's loads prettier than me. And I meant it when I typed in loads.
Depressed,
A
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Him (Who Doesn't Suspect A Thing)
SachbücherI can't say you know who you are, 'cause you don't. Oh well, that's just how life goes. Maybe you'll read this, maybe you won't. But either way, I want you to know I like you, H.
