“You look wonderful.” Millions of unwanted, imaginary, feelings flood into a single sentence. I feel like an animal unable to control itself, fighting to be a man. Fighting every cell in my body to not put my arm around you or to mouth the words “I like you.” I don’t, I know I don’t, I can’t, it will kill everything we know. If I admit the feelings I seemed to have conjured in my mind what will the reaction be? Will they be that of disgust, or confusion; or will they be reciprocated and felt with the deepest desire a person can feel? Which one do I want? I feel sick with myself, with the knowledge that I want you to feel the same way. I want you to toss and turn at night wondering if we feel the same way or if it’s one sided. If you feel like we could do something only for the summer, then never speak of it again. The summer always ends. I want to end the summer with you but I care too much about you to ruin everything. I cannot think of a single bad second you and I have had together. I hate that I want to tell you how I feel. I hate that I feel the way I do in the first place. I feel like an animal. You matter so much to me that I can’t stand that these thoughts have entered my mind. That I have allowed myself to stoop so low to the pulls of desire. You whispered in my ear an unimportant phrase that I don’t remember, however, I remember every cell in my body wishing it could be closer to you as you whispered. Wishing that everything was more simple and we could whisper and laugh and not have to worry about the troubles of tomorrow.