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My heart is racing

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My heart is racing. So. Fucking. Fast. Here you are, right next to me at the lunch table, and you're just totally unaware of how I'm feeling right now. You're very caught up in the book you're reading, aka The Age of Innocence, while I'm just freaking out about how I'm going to put this question onto you.

It should be so easy to do. I mean, remember what you said to me back in D.C.? "You just have to go for it and never look back."

Hey, I can do that... eventually. I'll do it eventually, okay? There's plenty of time left in the lunch period. It just barely started and I have yet to eat because I'm at that point where I'm so nervous I want to throw up. Fun, right? Not!

Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll wait right when lunch is ending cause then if all fails I can just run away and spare myself the embarrassment. Seems like a solid plan, I think. I don't fucking know. I'm really just winging it here.

I can do this, right? I mean, it's not I'm totally risking what could be an amazing friendship only because I want more. How could I not want more? You're amazing. In fact, you're the best thing to have ever happened to me. I can't help it.

You know what? I'm just gonna... go for it. I'm gonna for for it. Yeah, I am. I'll follow your advice. At least I can say I tried.

Maybe I'll regret this later. You know what? I'm gonna stop writing now. I'm wasting time.

Later.

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