Dear Mr. O'Biewankanobie,
(See what I did there?)
For some reason or another, whenever I am in your presence I feel beautiful. It's a very strange phenomenon, as I do not have feelings for you; I hardly know you at all. But maybe that's why you're such a player (or at least, so I've heard, I can't judge you based on rumors). I don't know if it is coincidence, intentional, by accident, or if I'm the only one who has felt this odd sensation of random esteem, though I suspect I'm not. Either way, thanks for that. It's nice.
It makes me want to get to know you. You are a puzzle that I'm trying desperately (well, not desperately, that's a bit dramamtic) to put together. Ugh. I wish you'd be my friend. Which, I could totally pursue that, but it feels weird to think about that kinda thing right now. Because you know. I'd rather not make friends before I move off to college, though I should never want to not make friends. Ya know? 'Kay cool.
Your dearest, loveliest admirer,
Paige.
