Once the lunch bell rang, I made my way straight back to that hall. What's the harm in skipping one meal, anyways? (There's actually a lot of harm. Please, never skip a meal.) I just wanted really badly to make sure this morning wasn't the only time this was going to happen. I know I shouldn't think like that, it was a dumb thought, thinking someone would want to make the awkward, gay, mute boy feel good.

Once I got there, I could have swore on my life that there were even more sticky notes. It was a surprise, to say the least. I would like to say I wasn't shaking with excitement and renewed hope. I'd like to say it didn't give me an optimistic view on how this whole sticky note situation could turn out.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. I will admit, I loved the feeling.

I started reading. I ran to the nearest one, plucking it off the wall. I knew, deep down, I was expecting them to read something along the cruel lines of "Prank!" or "Haha. What a loser, thinking I meant that," or the worst possible situation, saying, "Love, Donald Trump."

Slowly with low expectations, I brought my eyes down to read the paper.

There is someone who loves you.

Give me a minute to just--HOLY SHIT. It's not a prank? Not a callous joke? Am I actually alive right now, or am I dreaming? Did I die during last period?

Fuck, I'm just gonna role with it.

Pocket that one, run to the next one.

Even if that person doesn't seem like it.

Pocket, run, heart picking up its pace.

They do care.

Same movements, but faster; including my heartbeat.

You'll see.

Even faster this time. Hot damn, my heart is about to explode out of my chest any moment now.

Please, don't let this be some cruel joke to lure me into a false sense of hope and serenity. I honest to shit was the meet this person. Maybe befriend them if I'm lucky?

That's the kind of outcome I'd like from this.