Sometimes I feel that the more I think about you, the less I can see your face in my mind. You had always been a bit too far out of my reach, always a few steps ahead.

I would think of you each day, often times in English class. You would always come to mind then, especially when we could write about anything our hearts desired.

You were funny, first of all. In every class you would tell jokes at the best and worst times, to everyone's enjoyment. From the back of the room would come a perfectly timed pun, and the whole class would burst out laughing, even if was in the middle of a test. You were always the one that was able to get the teacher going on a tangent so long that they would forget to give us homework. Thinking back on those times, I smile so hard that my cheeks hurt.

Even though you were the closest thing we had to a class clown, you were also extremely smart. Smart enough that I thought it was insane that I could score better on a test than you could. Biology was never your strength anyway; you were one of those rare people that enjoyed working with imaginary numbers and theoretical geometry. One of those people that I wish that I could be, or be surrounded by.

Of course, you were attractive. Not a lot of acne, nice and tall, a blonde mop of hair like every YA book character. When you would smile at something, your straight, white teeth would light up the room. With your long, anime eyelashes that surrounded those classic blue eyes, you were every teenage girl's dream.

It seemed as if everything you would do was effortless, whether is was passing a test or fixing your hair. You never even had to try to be successful in anything that you decided to do. All of the aspects of your personality created the perfect storm, and I had been fighting to make my way to reach the eye of the storm, to you.

All that gave me was a headache.

You know, I never paid attention to anyone else except for you. Sure, some other boys would come up and talk to me, but I was always waiting for the day that you would come and find me. You would walk up from behind, and tap me on the shoulder. I would turn around, and smile as if we were old friends. You would take my hand in yours, and we would be together.

Sometimes I think that I will forget you, that you will retreat into a corner of my mind and never return. You'll be put away into a dusty filing cabinet that will rust shut with time.

It feels as if you never actually existed at all, outside of my mind.

That's why you'll never see this letter.

The post office can't deliver to people that don't exist.