On a fine summer day, when the breeze is just right, we will ride buses all day and take pictures of everything but ourselves. I will love the way your hair turns brown in the sun and how you smile when the sun is in perfect array with the clouds, and how you look at me when you catch me staring.

You don't have to know how I feel. I don't mind being friends. I treasure your friendship more than the thought of kissing you or holding your hands (but that would be nice too).

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