It's not a fake stalker crush anymore. He makes me feel squishy and warm inside and his unique humor forces me to be witty again. I don't know what I expect to gain, except that I know I want to hold his hand. He called me from Hawaii every day to endless laughter and easy chatting.
In English class, a great number of our conversations become personal "confessions" that would otherwise never come up. Listening to Dave's stories, though I love and admire his dispassionate logic (jealous to no end), my life is touched with the brilliant and devastating fire of emotion. Our days of eternal summer and glorious autumn will remain bittersweet memories of perfect, innocent romance, but they are the last of anything between us. I can love him and his life without wanting to be near it. It is sweet release.
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