I think it’s kind of ridiculous how smitten I am of you. It’s quite obvious that you are oblivious to all this, but for some reason that makes me yearn for you all the more. I remember once I accidentally cut my finger, and without a moments notice you grabbed my hand to see if I was okay. We’ve touched before, but they had all been awkward, uncertain, and short. I swear I could feel my heart leap into my throat, and I hoped to god you did not look up into my face or eyes because then you would know completely how I felt and I would be so afraid of seeing that sad look on your face. Even that little touch was so much, I nearly went into cardiac arrest. I wondered what would happen if you touched me more, all over. Would I die? My skin tingles at the thought. Is it silly that I enjoy your attention, no matter how miniscule it is? Like when you say “Your collar is messed up,” and then fix it for me without a moments notice, and sometimes your fingers brush against my neck. I started wearing collared shirts more often, because of it.
Sincerely,
Gryndelown
Love Letter #2
