We call him Dream Boy.
Dream Boy is tall, and Dream Boy is blond, and Dream Boy has blue eyes.
He the perfect representation of what I have always dreamed of.
Dream Boy is dorky and extremely awkward, but that’s what makes Dream Boy himself. That’s what I likes about Dream Boy.
Well, Dream Boy, this is where I will write about you. About our story.
Where I will soon be confessing my undying love for you. Or maybe its not love but here I will confess my feelings towards you.
Let us start from the beginning.
Freshman year. Period 5 with Mrs. Pham. We were in there together, you didn’t know me, I was extremely shy that year. But I knew you. That year you were in cross country, believe it? I remember that one project, where we had to tell each other about ourselves, that’s when I first noticed you Dream Boy.
Then you started swim and I was in it too.
I don’t know what made you so special.
Hey, do you remember the squirrel joke that only our table in Mrs. Pham’s classroom knew about. {You’re still my little squirrel}. Off topic sorry.
Swim season came and went and then it was summer, we didn’t hang out or anything. *crys*
You see but then it was the next year and I thought the feelings were gone but little did I know they weren’t.
I still thought you were cute and all Dream Boy but i was not confident enough to take it anywhere, so I gave it up.
Then she came into the picture.  Tall, and dark haired, and skinny. She was perfect. They all thought I was joking. I wasn’t.
I cant compete with that, do you see her and then do you see me.
Then you took action, awkwardly of course.
She didn’t like your awkwardness, but I would not have minded. You see that was something I liked about you.
Now im sitting here typing out my feelings wishing that you would somewhere down the line see this and think, I loved that girl too.
Maybe Cupids arrow hit me right in the heart but he just grazed your shoulder.
But, my question is, what about the glances that we give each other or the constant teasing. What about when we whip each other with our goggles or when you can feel the love in-between us, {again with the love thing}, its like tension in the air.
Now it’s the end of Sophomore year and I am accepting these feelings.
You know, love is like a fire, but this fire never goes out.
First you ignite the fire. It starts with the stolen glances, that neither of us tell anyone about. Then the “accidental” touches. 
Then the fire burns, but the thing is Dream Boy neither of us have added any fuel to this fire.