Dear Isabel,

I'm just going to get it out of the way and say it. I like you - a lot. I fell in love with your personality first. Then I loved your style, your sense of humor, your free spirit. You and your friends listen to a lot of the same music I do, making me feel less alone in my musical isolation. I love the way you laugh, and how you get those little crinkles around your eyes when you are genuinely happy. Your small smile can brighten any room on any day, and that teasing face you have when we play Mafia drives me wild. Your strong opinions capture me, and your strength to never back down, to never give in, amazes me. The glint you get in your eyes when you talk about something you love warms my soul. I know you have problems - experiences that have shaped you - creating the positives and sadness and the fortification in your figure, but that's what makes you a wonderful human being.

But I'm confused.

Quite frankly, I'm alone. I'm an isolated floating soul in this school with no connections. I've tried to numb myself to the pain, but every moment with you reopens my wounds. I've never fit in with the other girls, and never with the boys (why would I? I'm not a boy), but when I'm around you and your friends, a feeling of acceptance and belonging takes over with a reminder of how lonesome I am. It's always temporary. When the time is over, you go your way and I go back my solo spot in the hallway- invisible. So I say I'm confused because I wonder if I really like like you, or am I desperately looking for a friend. I need a soul to connect to. What if it's yours? 

What if it's not.

So I hope I don't mess things up, but I just needed to let you know. This might never work out - there are many things on the outside that are different between us. But I hope that maybe this will help explain why I can barely talk when your around - my heart is just beating too fast.

If you ever read this note, I'm sorry.

Love,

J❤️

Idk why, but the picture above reminds me of the person that inspired this first chapter in Letters.