Dear You,

         Last year was the year I first spotted you. The ring of the bell and the students rush out of their classes, the hallways becomes crowded filling with who look as different as you and me. The hallway doors sway dangerously back and forth and out came you...with your straight, black ear length hair, ever so slightly cupping your face. Your face...it has this peculiar shape to it. Not quite a heart shape but not fully round either with angular perspectives.You were tall, not fat but big boned. And that was the first time I ever saw you. I didn't know your name, your grade nor anything else.

         Then I saw you everywhere. In the cafeteria, the train and this local hangout of my friends and I. It was the mid of May when we first held eye contact. We were both alone and waiting for the train. The air was humid, there were only a tad of people since it was past the regualar dimissal time. There was nothing to look at except the floating garbage on the tracks and the slight movement of rats. Glancing around me, I saw you again. You were wearing that breezy white shirt of yours with that messenger bag. You looked back, with a slight smile. I was not in my best mode. It was hot so I was sweating a bit. Although I was wearing my sexiest beige t-shirt with a U neck that "hugs my curves"(dam, so corny) and jeans that made my butt look good. My hair was a shoulder length black mess since gym and my tortured black messenger bag look ready to disintegrate. I putted on my bored icy cold face for you...maybe it's because if I showed any emotions my little crush on you will be revealed. Then the train came, you walked in the other car and I the other. That was the last of the year I saw of you.

         You see, I never expect you to be my age...you look about two years older. Heck I even thought you were off to college. But then there you were. We were seated alphabetically, and so there we were you in front and me in back. You were the first to talk to me. You gave me a grin and I stared. Over the months, we developed a awkward relationship. You would take my stuff and I wouldn't care, but deep down I was grinning from head to toe...but on the outside I gave a bored face. I should stopped now...I get this feeling that somebody somewhere will read this and then knows you and then yeaaa...I'm such a coward.

                                                                                                  Love,  The Girl Who Sits Behind You 

Should I tell you?