I’m sorry, but I have to get this off my chest.

I’m crushing on you something fierce.

I’m not sure what about you drew my attentions. I’ll be honest, you’re not the type of girl I am typically attracted to. But there is just something about you. Whether it be your heart stopping smile, or how sweet you are, or your wind chime voice… I don’t know.

I know this is unfair. You’re working, and I have only ever encountered you in an environment where you have to be a sweet heart. But since the first day your eyes pierced me, oh and they did pierce, I could not stop thinking about you. At first I was downright scared of you. I could not understand why, when you looked at me, I felt as though you were looking at Me. Or when you spoke, why I felt as though you spoke to Me. It made me nervous. I did not know whether it was real, some quirk of your personality, or my own rampant imagination.

Every time you look at me, I cannot help but smile. Nor can I help the growing anticipation in my chest. But there is something about you. Something angelic. And whether this seed you have buried inside is that fruit of infatuation, or the infantile oak of love, I fear I cannot stop its maturation.

Some would say that its just a crush. No big deal. But for me, it is a big deal. I have not lived a gentle life. Nor have I have been graced with the warmth of such daylight as others have felt. Nor have angels crossed my path. With each passing day I have grown colder, harder, more angry. Sadder. But you… you threaten to melt the wall of ice I have spent years carving from the glacial life I have lived.

Poetics aside, it has been nearly six years since I have been with anyone. Five since I have even touched a woman. I do not blame others for this, as it was my own poor choices and growing disquiet. But when I see you, when I hear you. When the sun falls upon my shoulders, you, if only for a moment, chase away my darkness.

I wish I could say that my attraction to you is based solely in the purity which you represent to me, but I am only human. I fantasize about you. About pleasing you, about thrilling you. About making you blush, and moan. About laying beside you, about you resting against my chest. I have dreamed about making love to you.

But, just as much of my fantasy is chaste. I have dreamed about simplely being with you. Spending days together, looking into each others eyes. Making you breakfast. Sitting by the ocean, content to rest my head upon your lap as we watch the waves swallow the goldenrod sunset. I have yearned so deeply to simply have ten minutes. Ten brief minutes to speak with you, to know you. About simply being graced with your divinity.

I wish nothing more than to show you this, to let you read this. But I know I cannot. The fear of rejection is just as potent as the fear of reciprocation. I am damaged. Broken. I have problems in my life with not simple solutions. I am poor, nearly homeless. I am sick, and have a streak of violence in me which I fear may be explosive. No relationship I have ever been party to, whether romantic or otherwise, has ended in anything but tears.

Maybe one day. Maybe one day I may be in a position in which I can take care of you. I can love you. But for today, I will have to be content in our painfully brief encounters easing the darkness on my soul. I will have to be content with you just being Sunshine.