Tim doesn't know how to feel about you. Honestly, he's tried to come to a conclusion, tried to find a solid opinion, but it's hard... He can't decide whether he invited you into his life, or whether or not you invaded it. Either way, there's something comforting about your presence, something nice about the way you write. It's all there in the emails you exchange, all in between the lines...

Love.

Pfft. Really, it's ridiculous if you think of it that way. Tim had simply used the public computer in the library at his school one day when he saw in his email a message from someone reminding him to log out next time because they had accidentally logged into his account, and ever since then the emails have been going back and forth.

He doesn't even know your name, but he loves the sound of your email address. It's witty and cute and he swears it's exactly why he appreciates you.

Bing.

A notification. An email?

He turns to his laptop. Bingo.

It's from you. When is it not?

You: Hey. It's been a while. :)