I've written so many things about you, so many things to you, for you... what has come of it all?

Nothing...

Nothing, because I'm not making a move... because I'm afraid of definite rejection... because it isn't normal... because it will break boundaries and ties and override our system of respect...

Because I have no definite reason to rank you as reachable and irreplaceable. No solid foundation to make me decide that you are a need, not just a want, a flitting feather of teenage fancy...

All of this and yet... I just can't seem to let you go... for what reason, I have no idea... maybe I'm just entertaining my hopeless romantic fantasies of "it will come as a cute, romantic surprise soon enough"...