Hidden Letter

I can't really express emotion through anything but the written word, so often times I seem robotic, for the things I write are often to never be read, or to be posted here for strangers.

His eyes are a sad and endless blue, his hair short, messy and brunette. He is tall and pale and thin and strong and attractive. His hands make mine feel small and fragile, his smile makes me feel weak and warm. And even though it has been two years since I looked into his sad blue eyes, or felt the warmth of his smile I still know what he looks like and how it feels when he touches my hand by accident and doesn't pull away. We still talk, so much that it makes my heart ache for him. More recently I crave him in a new way, a way that fills my mind every time I close my eyes or let my mind wander. I covet the feel of his hand on mine, desparately want to know what it's like to press my lips to his, but more so I feel this desire to be needed by him because, although I need him, I don't believe that he needs me. I don't believe that he wants me the way I want him, or that he thinks about me when he closes his eyes for the night, or that he feels the way that I feel. Deep down I know that I am just his friend and that I will never be anything more than that to him, but not as deep I know that I will never stop wanting, never stop dreaming, and never stop hoping.