I'm sorry that this is no longer enough for me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I can't possibly express to you how much you've meant to me all these years. How happy your smiles and hugs make me. How, sometimes, when I'm crying, I just have to imagine that you're there with me and everything's okay. I heard you told someone that you and I "almost went out" when we were first getting to know eachother. That was so long ago... And the only reason I even talked to you that day at high school was because I thought you were beautiful. I still think that. I certainly wasn't aware that we were so close to being more... how did I miss the opportunity? I'll curse that forever. And what's wrong with the idea now? We're both single and you know as well as I do that everyone else thinks we should be going out. We've been asked enough times if we are.

I'll regret not taking the opportunity when I could have. I'll especially regret that when this (whatever it is) is over. And it will be, maybe sooner than even I think. Because it's getting to be too much. It's always the same pattern with me, and I'm tried of smiling and whipping out jokes about how funny it is that people think I'm in love with you.

I don't have a crush on you. My palms don't get sweaty when you touch me. But I need you. I need you, and I'm not talking about the laughter and the fun. I need you, and only you, to tell me I'm beautiful. I need you, and only you, to want me. I need you, and only you, to hold my hand through the storms and make sure I make it out alright. I need to not think this is going to end soon. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What we have should be enough. That joke about cows, and the hugs, the sleepovers, your clothes... Really, I have everything with you. You, my almost-boyfriend. It should be enough. It should. It's obviously enough for you. But I can't do it anymore. It feels like I'm lying to myself, and I know I'm lying to you.

I don't know what I'm going to do, but I can't keep it up much longer. I'll miss you. More than you could ever understand.

Yours,