Ah, I see. You have a girlfriend. It all makes sense, now. Your reaction back in May, your reluctance, all makes more sense. You already had someone else in mind.

I'm not blaming you for anything, of course. There's nothing to blame. I took too long to say what I wanted to say, and when the time finally came to release my words, I choked on my confession. I told you that I liked you in the most awkward and unflattering way possible. That's not how the conversation was supposed to go, by the way. I was supposed to be eloquent. I was supposed to tell you all the things you mean to me, and not just leave you with a "you're awesome, I'm awesome, and we'd, like, be totally awesome together!"

You're so much more to me than that. The real answer to why I liked you in the first place is because you somehow know exactly what to say to me, and exactly how to say it. You seem to "show up" in my near-breakdown moments, and somehow know precisely how to set my world right again. No one else has been able to do that. No one else has reached my core like you have.

I admire so much in you: your conviction, your calling, your dedication, your non-discriminating nature, the way you're willing to befriend everyone, your heart for people. You're a gifted, compassionate communicator and a valuable friend. My reasons go far beyond the humor, the inside jokes. You're someone I could see myself with.

I spent four semesters trying to figure out how I felt about you, and didn't make up my mind until you left to study abroad. I spent two semesters after that pining over possibilities. Now I feel foolish for wasting so much mental energy on something that ultimately wasn't going to happen. I wish I could have told you all my reasons why when I had the chance.