Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Shit. Fuck.
Shit.

Dear Spaz,

Two things:
1. I really really really like you, in that way you really like someone you want to date for a long time.
2. I also love you, in that way you love a friend you've known all your life; a friend who just understands you, who'll always be there for you. A friend you never want to lose.

I can't tell you about 1. because of 2. And I can't tell you about 2. because of 1.

But you're always there, even if it's just in the back of my mind.
Infiltrating thoughts. Barraging through dreams.

Shit. Shit. Fuck.