mr. f.m.,
i have wanted to fuck you ever since freshman year. i dont only want to engage in sexual intercourse, i want to hold you, you hold me, kiss, talk, live life together. wouldnt that be sweet? to be partners in life. i know you know i want to. youve seen me blush, witnessed my refusals to stand-up, noticed the contant book hiding my crotch, youve heard me studder, caught me looking at you, and smiled at at my obvious attempts to avoid all confrontation in hallways and other classes. o! mr. m! how i want you!
pretty soon, i'll graduate and will leave. two weeks and its over. should i talk to you? should i tell you how i feel? i wish i could, but i wont. i'll probably faint. i'll miss you. i'll miss every minute of highschool spent with or around you. i love you. maybe someday you'll divorce that bitch and i'll swoop in and take her place? no. i know who you are, and youre not who i wish you were. and i accept that. but i can always dream. again, i'll miss you.
love,
mr. p.r.r.