My fingers moved frantically over the letters. I can’t sleep, because I can’t stop thinking about you. This might come as a surprise, but it happens a lot. And it’s been going on for years. When I was a teenager, I used to dream about kissing you. Touching you. Feeling your body on mine in the dark. I used to lie awake and picture you in your bed next door, and I’d fantasize about sneaking into your house and up to your room. I’d have let you do anything you wanted to me. I still would. I could never, ever say these things out loud to you, so I’m hiding behind this text I will never send, but
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