I'm writing you a letter. I know you'll like it. You've always liked handmade things.
Inside it's crisp rice-paper pages I am pointing out facts you may be interested in about my everyday mundane life.
1st year GPA. Rainy, unpleasant weather. How TV is ruining my social life. Facts like that.
There is something I'd like to write in your letter. Something that has been on my mind.
You, of course.
It's how much I care for you. And, yeah, I know I've told you before, and I know you know I care. But it's more than that.
I want you to know I care more than just caring.
The words I choose to write in this simple letter of yours are the truth, masking a truth.
A truth I can't tell.
It's not so easy to say it.
Not even easy to write it. I thought that'd be easier. But it's not.
And I can't say it. It's easier to lie and tell you mundane, simple things. Like how I'm addicted to Starbucks again, (oh no!).
I like you. And I know you don't know. And it scares me to tell you. Because, well, that's the problem.
So instead, you'll get this letter. It'll be quaint and handmade and it'll make you smile instead of confuse you, and you'll probably write a short, sensible thank you in return that'll make me the happiest liar on the planet.
I hope you get it soon.

I'm writing you a letter. I know you'll like it. You've always liked handmade things.
Inside it's crisp rice-paper pages I am pointing out facts you may be interested in about my everyday mundane life.
1st year GPA. Rainy, unpleasant weather. How TV is ruining my social life. Facts like that.
There is something I'd like to write in your letter. Something that has been on my mind.
You, of course.
It's how much I care for you. And, yeah, I know I've told you before, and I know you know I care. But it's more than that.
I want you to know I care more than just caring.
The words I choose to write in this simple letter of yours are the truth, masking a truth.
A truth I can't tell.
It's not so easy to say it.
Not even easy to write it. I thought that'd be easier. But it's not.
And I can't say it. It's easier to lie and tell you mundane, simple things. Like how I'm addicted to Starbucks again, (oh no!).
I like you. And I know you don't know. And it scares me to tell you. Because, well, that's the problem.
So instead, you'll get this letter. It'll be quaint and handmade and it'll make you smile instead of confuse you, and you'll probably write a short, sensible thank you in return that'll make me the happiest liar on the planet.
I hope you get it soon.