I have tried so often in the past year and a half to categorize the way I feel about you. To place it into a neat, small box so that I can place it down and walk away, leaving it behind.

You see, my dear, you intrigue me. You always have. Something deep inside you attracts me, magnetizes me, draws me close and enthralls me.

I long to kiss you - just once, so that I will know what it is like to love you. Because I certainly do love you. Not in the same way that I love Larry, I definitely do not want you and me to be "together" in the conventional relationship sense. But I know, however, that even though I do not "want" you, I would be unbearably jealous if some other woman took your heart away. I desire to be close to you, I want to be an important part of your life and your thoughts.

Perhaps I feel close to you because, deep inside, we are so similar. On the outside, our differences might appear vast - our ideologies, our lifestyles, our tastes, even what we believe in - but inside, in our hearts, we are the same.

I know the frustrations, the apathy, the bitterness, the cynical, the misanthropic feelings that you contain inside you. I know because I hold the same turbulent storm inside me.

But that is not simply it. I don't love you because I know you, although that is part of it. I really don't know why. And I wish I did.

Perhaps it is just another case of wanting something I can't have. That is not true either, because I do not "want" you. I don't lust after you. I don't "desire" you. I just... think... about you.

With a strange, unexplainable, more than friendly, less than in-love, kind of love:

Your favourite Frosty friend..

Agnes