To the boy who sits in front of me in history.
You've become a beautiful mystery to me. Whether I'll ever get to know you past the date of our final, I do not know. But for these fleeting moments, I appreciate the things you have to say.
I like that you give no fucks about saying exactly what you think.
I like that you let it all come from the heart.
I like that when I see your big brown eyes, they don't make me sad.
I like that all of the things that stand out about you are not just because they're a mirror image of the last person I loved.
Maybe one day, I'll bump into you and say something smooth. Or maybe I won't.
But until the last time we both walk out of our history room, I promise to appreciate the moments we share.
the girl who sits behind you.