Dear anonymous boy who I loved from afar,

I could go on for days about the boy who I loved from afar. He is a real, beautiful specimen of a man, but almost too real. If you know anything about me, my love for celebrities, singers, and bands amounts to more than I have ever loved anyone. So the reality of actually liking someone who is real, tangible, sitting next to me is scary.

I can still envision the way you continuously combed through your hair during the middle of class, the way your fingers ran through your dark brown locks out of nervous habit. The giggles that my friends and I shared over you could be seen as wasted time from outsiders looking in, but it was the little things that always put a smile on our faces. I can still picture the way you hunched over your desk, capturing the cap of your pen in-between your lips as you concentrated on reading a text. I remember constantly daydreaming about you, and I have no shame about it.

You most likely know who you are. Which is extremely embarrassing because I know I’m as transparent as a Taylor Swift song lyric. The painstaking fear that I have thinking that you might see this is enough to paralyze me, but I've come to terms with the fact that I will most likely never see you again. The glances that I would steal as I looked your way in the middle of a lecture now fade in my mind as the opportunity has disappeared, as I haven't seen your face in my most recent class – even though I desperately want to.

I like to admire from afar. I know that I am a person that is easily infatuated. I love the idea of love, but once a smidgen of commitment comes into view, I’m going to take about ten steps backwards. So I will continue to dream up a future, the imaginary life that we will live in the Hamptons with our two adorably preppy children – Finn Brady and Rory Jane.

Wy did I never speak to you? I guess I was just in love with the idea of you, and I was afraid that my interpretation of you would be completely incorrect. It’s one of the worst things, to create a person in your mind, to create these expectations and fantasies in your head, only to find that none of it is true and none of it will ever be true. Oh, and the fact that the one time you spoke to me, I got hives. Yeah, that was a major factor in the attempt to avoid you. It was highly embarrassing, I could not even form English words when I was around you. I would like to say that I have grown up in the months that I have not seen you, but, honestly, I will probably still feel the same way when I pass you on the street.

We hardly ever spoke in the few years of attending the same school, and we will probably never speak in the future, but I will still remember you as the boy I giggled over like a little school girl, the boy who, without knowing, gave me hives, and the boy that distracted me and invaded my everyday thoughts.