Love REALLY sucks.

The kindles in my fireplace crackled rhythmically. Wood in the oven burned to a dark crisp every so often, needing to be replaced with new, fresh ones. This was the only thing that pulled me out of this chair. I had to finish this letter to the girl I liked so much; I was so into it, I couldn’t stop now. I knew that if I finished this letter, she would understand what kind of person I am, and maybe even like me in return.
Frankly, I don’t think she even knows I like her. We talk every day, but nothing seems to be progressing. Does she not know? Or does she simply not like me in that way? Alas, I am much too shy to ask in person. Instead, I will go the easier, safer, more thought out way and write a love letter. It’s perfect--I could say everything I wanted to without mistake and slip in a bunch of funny things that I might not be able to come up with at the time. With a bunch of great ideas in mind, I began to write my letter to her.

“Dear Chloe,
I am writing to you today in hopes that you just hear me out on this. I have been insanely infatuated by you for the past couple of years or so now, and I got a little tired of waiting. As you already know, I am pretty shy when it comes to expressing feelings, so I thought a love letter might do the trick. The times we’ve had over the past year have been so important to me; we’ve laughed, we’ve danced, we’ve sang, we’ve played… all such wonderful times together, and I thank you for all of it. But beyond that, you just have such a positive complexion. You have beautiful dirty blonde hair, complimented by your stunning eyes. Your… um… your…”
I stopped dead in my tracks. I had no idea what else to write. Chloe loves sappy love poems, so maybe I could try my hand at one of those?
“Dearest Chloe, with scent like a rose
The fact you’re not here simply fills me with woes
I think about you, day after day
Just to realize I can’t stay away
At school we will talk for hours on end
Afterwards we’ll leave, but you I depend
To not leave me alone when the night hours approach
And help me… and give me…”
Why can’t I write anything else? What is wrong with me? I haven’t experienced such severe writer’s block in ages. I simply don’t understand.
Wait. Yes I do. All of my doubtful, depressing thoughts are coming back to me. Why would Chloe ever want a guy like me? I’m geeky, I’m shy, I have acne, I haven’t pulled a move on her in YEARS… what do I have that other guys don’t? I don’t understand why I even try anymore. I can’t finish even one letter.
I stand up out of my chair, douse the flames in my fire, and go upstairs to get ready for bed. Once I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and hopped under the covers, I set the letter with the other several dozen I have failed to send her over the years.