I miss you.
I read potential but closed the book. I couldn't do it. I wasn't strong enough.
I wanted to wait. But how long can I wait? Not long enough.
Now I miss the feelings I felt when I was around you. I miss your arms, and your lips, and your smell. I miss your legs, your touch, and kissing your hips.

The little noises you would make. Your uncontrolled movements.
I miss your voice. And I miss you telling me things about yourself. You didn't know how much I liked to hear you talk. I miss your brain. I miss your words.
I would've told you if I could've told you, but how would you have reacted?
I mailed you a letter yesterday. I hope you read it. I hope it's good to you.
I miss what might have been, but really, what is that anyway?