Dear ---
I've fallen in love with you. I don't know how or why, but there it is. I wasn't really sure it was love for the longest time, actually I'm still not sure. I have never felt love before. It's calm, and also exilarating. Whenever I think of you, I smile, and whenever you contact me, my heart makes my ribcage know it. When you where here, I felt a calm peace around you, and also a nervousness, wondering if you recognized my love, if it could be seen.
I singled you out for a new years kiss, did you realize that when I came knocking on the bathroom door to the sound of “five, four, three, two...” And when you stormed out that door, taking my face in your palm, and when your lips engaged mine, I felt my heart soar out of my mouth and into yours.
When you had to leave, and you spent the night awake with me, and two other women who adore you, one of whom you say you love, and when you turned to me, on that bed, and kissed me once more, did you feel the atoms of my body begin to dance; as I felt them? They sang for you. I've drempt of that kiss many a night afterwords.
I didn't cry and the airport. I knew I might never see you again, I knew that once they had trained you to be a warrior you would never be the same. I knew all of this, and I still didn't cry. Do you know why? Because the other two where crying. I felt my heart rip a little  bit, but I felt maybe it was for the best you where gone. I know you don't love me, I know I'm the last one you would pick. And still, even after you left, I still fell farther.
Now you're coming back, and my heart is having some trouble. I told you I would kiss you, and your relpy was that you have someone else now, and that it isn't appropriate. I know I sould be pleased you are so faithful, but right now I'm just aching. I've missed you more than her, I've been there for you, and I might never see you again. I need one more goodbye kiss from you. I'm going to cry this time, I promise. I only wish you could know how much I love you. That sounds cliché but understand that it comes from fear of telling you. If I do, I fear you will never trust me again as you have. I was the first you told of your love of our mutual friend, seeking me for advice. I was the one you called when you where lonely. I was the one you schemed with. And now... and now I have kept the plant of my love from you hidden, and it has grown. When you come, how can I not show you? It had grown so, that it now comes out my eyes, and my mouth, my nose, my ears, my fingertips. How could you not see it when you arrive?
My only hope, it that in writing this letter to you, although I never intent to send it, I will feel as if I have told you some of my love, and with this action I may prune back the wild and untaimed tendrils of my love, so that tomorrow, when you arrive, I may apear as I did, you will not know how full I am of the greenery of my love.
I hope you do not find me out, find the plant, or these butterflys that excite the atoms on my body while near you. And I hope and wish and dream for a final kiss, if only given in friendship. For when you are abcent, it is all that I have to keep of you.
With the love you know not of, that even I do not understand
Your Friend, -------