I've hinted it so many times. But I doubt you've allowed yourself to catch on. Ah yes. My modest, modest boy.

And yes, I call you my. Because in my mind, you are mine, and I am yours. Coupled. Paired. One. Whenever I have a spare moment, you pop into my head. Into my head as my boyfriend, my best friend, my lover. I see us together. Day and night. A love so strong that nobody else matters. Nothing will break us.

I want like nothing else in this world to touch you. To hold your hand, to kiss you, to hug you. I want to fix you, cleanse you, make you pure again. Clear your mind from the evils that haunt you. The evils that hurt you so much it brings you to tears.

If I could have one wish, it wouldn't be to be with you. It would be to take away your pain, because you do not deserve this. When you tell me how you are depressed, and how you cry yourself to sleep, that you hold such a deep self loathe for yourself, my faith in God dwindles a little bit more. Why would He bring such terrible things upon such a wonderful person? That is the one thing I just cannot grasp.

If I had my way, I wouldn't be writing these words in my notebook. I want to run and jump and dance and sing and shout these words from the roof tops. I want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what. Day and night. For your every need, your every want, your every desire. I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart, I love you.

But I am so frightened of you. I am so scared that you will reject me. I couldn't bare to think that you don't return the same feelings as me. And I couldn't risk losing you. I'm so scared that you will run away from me, or that you will feel so terrible for not returning my feelings you'll try and make yourself believe that you love me just as much as I love you.

And I couldn't break you like that. Because you are so fragile. I couldn't hurt you anymore than you already do. I couldn't live with myself if I put more pain on your plate.

And so, this letter stays in my notebook. And I stay silent. My soul cries out for you. My body aches to feel the tender touch of your fingers, my lips burn to feel yours pressed up against mine.

I look up to the rising night sky and console myself in tomorrow. Blow you a kiss, collapse in defeat, sing myself to sleep with bittersweet songs of regret. - Painted Thin.

I love you Darryl