to the boy with blue eyes,

you surprised me today by coming to my house. i didn't anticipate you to come, and i assumed you were still sick, so i left you to sit on the couch while i prepared some food. i just heated up leftover pizza i ordered from last night. apparently you love pizza.

you asked me if i had ate and to that i replied with a yes. you carried on with eating the leftover pizza and began to rant about the frivolous topics that you normally talk about. hell, i even asked how leo the ghost was doing.

you're the type of person who talks with their hands; it's something that i never really noticed until now. it's like a wonderful show: you'd be a good piano player or ventriloquist with that nimble fingers of yours. i've given up on piano a long time ago and puppets really aren't for me.

eventually, talking evolved into watching netflix while attempting to cuddle. i felt safe in your arms and even fell asleep.

i never want to forget these moments, and that's why i force myself to keep writing. maybe i'll let you see these letters someday as well.

actually, it's not a maybe. i will let you see these letters. today isn't the day, however.

yours truly,
- seto