Dear Sam,

I don't know if you've noticed it yet, even though I am pretty certain it's terribly obvious. I am falling for you, fast. It happened quickly, more so than I am comfortable with. I barely talked to you before the weekend. We were acquaintances, at least in my view. Then, you were there, for some reason, on the weekend. We joked, and I just started to feel something. I noticed you were cute; for some reason I hadn't before. I don't remember if it happened that day or earlier, but my friend made a joke about cutting. You told me you didn't like jokes about cutting. Did you mean for that to be a confession to me? It got worse at the dance that night. When I saw you sitting there, I had to try and help. You were so clearly depressed, and I have a problem with walking away from depressed people. And, as much as I am ashamed of being so shallow, I wanted to help you because I was starting to fall for you. You're cute, you're funny, and for some reason, you decided to confide in me. We talked for what was basically the rest of that night. You told me things you didn't tell others. I saw you at your lowest point. I don't know why you chose me, why you decided to let me in. I guess I was persistent, but you could have easily just ignored me. You didn't. If you hadn't, I doubt I would be where I am now in regards to my feelings for you. I can't say why, but having someone open up to you, and being able to connect them, it makes a person fall in love very easily.
What I am leaving out here is that you were telling me of how you fell in love with a girl. The tragedy here is beautiful; it could be a script, I swear. Now, you are around all the time. I think about you all the time. Hell, I'm writing this letter to you. An angrier me would resent the fact you opened up to me. I don't. I know exactly how you feel, and how much you needed to tell someone about it. And, though it may be selfish of me, I'm glad you chose me. I like being someone's confidant, the person they let in. It feels like I'm making a difference, at least to one person. We've talked a lot since this weekend, but not seriously again. I know it's only been a week, but it's felt like years. I don't know how this is going to play out. I am pretty sure at some point you will realize how I feel about you, It's obvious, I believe. I have a hard time controlling how I act around you. And I don't know how you will react. The irrational part of me believes that you will love me back, and we will be together; I'll finally have someone to hold, to love. If I could make that belief go away, if I could be your friend without loving you like this, I would. But I am a creature of desire, and all I want is you.

Love,

Rob