Dear Jacob,
I think you are beautiful. I think you are funny, intelligent and strong and kind and…I think you are everything. Everything I’ve always wanted.

But here’s the thing, I’m nothing you would want. I’m somewhere around 200 pounds, 5’4 and I’m a mousy little geek. I’m not smart, I tell myself I’m pretty when I know I’m not and my sense of humor is extremely perverted. I laugh when anyone says balls.

I read about love. I read something recently, a book about a woman that meets a man she went to high school with then falls in love with. There was this one section, the main character said “I’ve always been witness to love around me, when you see it; it leaves you feeling empty and alone.” Or something like that. I know that feeling; I feel it every time I look at you. Whenever I look at your amazing red hair, your brown eyes that light up like fireworks, your freckles. I love your freckles.

Once in advisory, I caught you looking at the girl I was sitting with, Abby. I didn’t want to think that way, but, I saw something in your eyes I didn’t want to see. Please, for the love of everything sour, please please please dont like her.


~Please don’t have somebody waiting on you. Please don’t be in love with someone else.~

See you in my dreams,
Lovemenot