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I actually think I just about ran out of them, considering how well I’ve been doing.

I laugh at myself sometimes, sitting here in front of my laptop with Viper’s Tangle open in one window and my social networking sites in the other. If I look at myself as if I weren’t inside my body, I’d chuckle at the crease lines on my forehead as I try to think of something witty to say to you. I’d watch my fingers hover over the keyboard before clenching together desperately, as if trying to squeeze some of that wit out of my fingers and onto the screen. I’d laugh again, because I know it wasn’t working.

I’d nod in approval at the guts I had so far. I always thought you were unattainable, way more unattainable than the guy I’ve liked for the past forever. But I like how you make me forget about him, and the him before. I like how you manage to surprise me and fascinate me. I’m not looking for anything. I’m just looking for good conversation, and you seem to have a huge amount of it. Of course, it doesn’t help that you’re good-looking and that you happen to be my type. Yes, that really doesn’t help.

So cheers to guts, and my lack of them now that I desperately want you to go to the Bonfire so we could talk some more.