My heart sometimes aches with longing for you, but I cannot bring myself to express it when I know you do not like me. It hurts when you say you’re unlovable; Tis I who loves you! But I could never say that. It hurts, yes. It hurts.

It hurts when you sit across from me at the table, jokingly shipping me with anyone but yourself. It hurts as we play truth or dare, and I pick dare almost every time to avoid telling you the name of my crush.

Yep, I am in pain. But for you, I shall endure. I will carry on, say no more. You are a fantastic friend who deserves no less; for this I’ll keep my secret and shall not confess.

I’ll try my best to remind you when you say you aren’t intelligent; intelligence is more than maths. I know you’re bad at that, but oh, how insanely clever you are at everything else. How you recite poems, quotes, songs, stories. You remember and hold dear people of the past, tales from so long ago. I wish you’d realize this profound intelligence you possess.

It aches, yes. It aches more than anything I have ever felt. My love for you is so grand that I’d not say to keep you safe from the wave of emotions that telling you would drown you in. I cannot tell you; not now. Perhaps someday, when we are old and I am able to joke about it. Yes, perhaps I’ll tell you then. But until then, I will wait. Perhaps you will grow to love me in that time, who knows? I hope. Oh god, do I hope.

“Ciel-”