Dear you,

I'm still a bit tired after getting off of the plane, and you're already passed out again on the bed in the hotel.

We arrived in America just a couple of hours ago, and I'm feeling quite hungry. I kind of was wishing you'd ask me out, take me somewhere, but it's okay that you didn't. You're not a mind reader. I know that.

Even though I'm feeling euphoric being here with you, something is still missing. I can't help but to feel like something isn't quite right.

I don't understand these feelings. I should, but I just don't.

I can't help but feel like things will go wrong. Maybe I'm just being silly. I don't know anymore.

In any case, I'll stop this here.

-P.JM