The strong scent of fresh perfume swiftly washes over me each time you walk past me, my eyelids droop a little at the mere sound of your voice. In a good way of course, it’s so soft. It just sounds so hydrated to me. I’ve never thought like this before…

I’ve never felt like this before.

I know you from a class we met in around a year ago. I’ll be entirely honest, you’re too good for me. You always have been and I know it all too well. You surprisingly want to be friends with me though which is actually really promising.

We’re polar opposites. When I say that, I’m serious. You’re liked by quite literally everyone. I don’t think you’ve ever argued with a soul apart from your parents. I’m… different. I sell drugs for money, while you have a job in a coffee shop around the corner from the university. I’m a little snarky, so I manage to start arguments allot with people I don’t even know. To sum it up, you’re an angel and I’m not.

Yet you still want to be friends with me, even though I could get you into so much trouble.

In the midst of the last year, things changed. Thoughts changed. Feelings changed. I don’t do.. feelings. Not like this anyway. I’ve learnt to be sensitive while being friends with you but not this sensitive. Not sensitive enough to tell you that I’m in love with you.

It’s difficult for me to feel this way, especially with someone I’m so comfortable with. I’m terrified of ruining our friendship, ruining something I’ve yearned for since forever. I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’d think I was lying, or that I was trying to humiliate you somehow. I’m a big overthinker, as you can tell.

It’s only fair that I think this way. I’ve never been good at relationships, and definitely maintaining commitment all the way through. I know that I’d commit to you, but I don’t know if you’d believe me if I said that.

So, I sit here on the edge of your bed, watching as you talk my ears off while I’m trying to think of ways to show my affection towards you. I’ve been hinting at things recently, trying to find ways to touch you more than I used to. Little things that I hope you’ll soon pick up on.

The last thing I want to do is open my mouth about it, but maybe it’ll come to that soon.