Dear [Him],

Truth is, you're there whenever I close my eyes. Your coy smile, your deep eyes... the way you blush... it all makes it difficult to sleep. Truth is, I don't want to sleep. I mean, why would I need sleep-drawn dreams if you're there whenever I close my eyes?

I know, I know: how cliché, how corny, how gushy. But in this romantic triteness I find novelty. I honestly thought these feelings were all make-believe, only to be found in romantic comedies and the sort. Then I met you, and they all started pouring in.

I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I know I'm about to see you again. My knees weaken when I see you from afar. Whenever you walk into a room unexpectedly, I can't help but smile.

And when you inadvertently smile whenever I unexpectedly walk into a room, when I catch you in the corner of my eye as you watch me and blush... well, it ruins me. It gives me hope that you feel the same way as I feel about you. Then, all of the sudden, it's not just you, but you and I whenever I close my eyes.

Don't get me wrong, though: I'm not naïf. I know it's just a dream. I know it may never be, you and I. I know it probably will never be you and I--even if you do feel the same as I. There are just too many variables.

Still, I cherish the dream, and I take comfort in knowing:

We’ll always have the dream
Where alone we’ll walk
The faded streets
Of slow, pre-waking bliss
And alone we’ll talk
In faded words
Alone we’ll share a kiss
Alone
Just you and I
But only in the dream

Adoringly,
[Me]