I met you in 8th grade. That was a crappy year. But being around you made everything better.
I remember being depressed, feeling like nobody loved me, like I wasn't wanted.
But you were always there for me when I needed someone to talk to.
You're amazing, adorable, cute, funny, and a lot more. I hope you know that.
I love you, I do. But I can never tell you that. You're straight and you like a guy that I'm pretty sure likes you too.
You deserve to be happy, after all that you've been through. You've lost friends and family.
I would rather get shot than seeing you hurt.
I'm know that you will have a great life, maybe start a family when you get older, with a caring and loving husband. Beautiful kids, that will look just as beautiful as you.
But that doesn't ease the pain I feel, knowing that you will never love me like I love you.
I will keep going, just for you. I'll pretend that it doesn't hurt.
But if your happy, then I'm happy, because the most important thing to me is that you're happy.
