Dear old T,

I miss you so, so much. I know how stupid that is. I know you wouldn't believe me if I told it to you - you'd just say it's "anticipatory nostalgia" because I don't like leaving people behind. Maybe I don't, but I really, really miss you. Because I like you. Really. And I want to write something to you, but it might also make me crazy that you won't respond. I want to do something to make you happy about our time together, but I don't think anything I could do would mean anything to you. Even a letter on linen paper wrapped up in a satin bow. Because you wouldn't see the part of me that desperately wants you to like me and look back fondly at our time together, and the part of me that wants to do something nice for you that would make you smile. All you would see is the pathological part of me that's so insecure that I feel the need to do stuff like that...