I like your freckles.

You deserve to be happy.

I would hug you for hours and never let go if you let me. You deserve a hug more than anyone I know.

Sometimes I wonder what your eyes look like up close.

Are your lips soft? I wonder.

That scar on your belly entices me.

Your hair looks so untamable and wonderful. I'd love to sit and stroke it one day.

I want to hear your stories as I fall asleep to the sound of your voice.

I want to look out for you like a parent, I want to make sure nothing in this world can hurt you.

No girl deserves you, with your kind heart and charming smile.

Even though you're acting, I hate seeing you with other girls. Call me overly possessive, but I always wish it were me getting to be close to you.

I love the way your eyebrow lifts up.

You have a lovely little widows peak. It very much fits your face.

I wonder how big your hands are compared to mine.

You keep me motivated to write. I write just for you sometimes, but no one realizes that I think my writing sucks and I just keep going because it's my only chance of seeing you in person.

Lie down with your head in my lap and talk about the universe with me until you fall asleep.

People think you have no talent in acting. They are wrong. You just get similar roles. I can see the joy in your face and actions in your earlier movies before you everyone wanted you to be the same. Be different.

I want you to be in my movie. I would let you be happy and free, if you wanted to.

I'd make you a hero so all the nonbelievers would see you and love you like you deserve.

You are three times my age and I don't care.

You are three times my age, and hotter than any teenage male or young adult I have laid my eyes on.

I would go to jail for kissing you. I would do it anyway. I would have to wait a little more than 3 months to kiss you.

Sometimes I wish I could be just a little older so people wouldn't judge my love and admiration of you.

I look up to you on more ways than one, in ways I can't even begin to describe.

You live in my dreams at night.

You send a great message to people who need it.

So much crap has happened in your life. I'm sorry.

You don't know me, but I know you. I know your characters. It has been your arms I feel some nights when I am sad, your characters, your voice that makes me smile and helps me up and tells me to keep trying.

I am proud of you.

One day, I cried in a fight with my dad and imagined holding your hand. I stopped crying to hold onto my own fingers and pretend they were yours.

I fear the day I may actually meet you because of ask the things I would love to say but wouldn't.

I've spent days in total rehearsing what I would tell you if I had the chance.

How would your hands feel holding mine, anyway?

You look like you have soft hands.

You've helped me out more that you will ever know.

I love you.