There is a girl, whom I have known for only a couple of years, and I know that is a fairly short time by some standards; long by others. Yet from the moment I first happened to glance in her direction, I have been and remain deeply smitten. It is amazing to me how a girl could be so appealing to the eye; she has long, lustrous brown hair, and big blue eyes, and fair skin (but not pale).

Yet for a time, even though I was very shy of her for as long as I've known her, I was able to talk to her casually. I had mustered the audacity to walk toward her and talk to her – after a very hard time pressing myself into it. From there my interest in her had only been enriched, and flourished. Not only is she perhaps the most beautiful girl that I have ever seen and that I could not possibly have imagined anybody so lovely, but her true beauty renders the skin-deep appeal as wrappings on the true package. She's probably the single sweetest girl I've ever met; her caring and gentle nature cannot be reconsiled with even a slight degree of cruelty as other girls at times exhibit. She is among the most intelligent people I have ever met; she's a dedicated student in school (90's, pretty much the top of the class), fiercely honest (simply out of the fact that she wouldn't have anything to lie about), responsible and does not make very many decisions without careful consideration, and she's respectful and patient towards everybody – I have never seen her so much as stretch the boundaries of politeness. I simply can't believe how much she has to offer – it was girls like this that I would only fantasize about before. Whoever marries her is the luckiest man alive. Sadly now I feel to inadequate to even be her friend, so I've shied away as I was afraid I would.

And if only it were me whom she would choose. I could swear right now that I would not be like other guys, treating her only as a prop for sex, then discarding her either blatantly or gradually. A promise I make is a promise not to break. I'd liken myself to a puppy: unabashedly loyal, ceaselessly caring, heartfeltly sentimental, a friend even when she has none others left. She could always expect roses whenever she'd feel down and lonely, to remind her that as long as I'm with her, there's no need for it. I'd lend my heart to her were hers to be broken, so she could have something inside of her still beating. As it is, every single night as I fall asleep, I wrap my arms around a soft pillow and dream of cuddling up to her, nuzzling her soft hair as it tickles my cheeks and neck. I write love poems with her in mind, and store them away in a secret place within my room, only to read them over in embarassment. I wish I could express my feelings to her without fear of discomforting her.

To my dismay, my timid nature has all too often hindered my intentions on brightening her day. If only I could summon the courage for so much as a single compliment. Every time I see her with her hair done nicely or wearing a pretty dress or skirt, I blush and become docile. One day not so long ago, she came to school dressed in a beautiful black long sleeved dress, elegant black heels, and gold loop earring dangling from her earlobes. As much as I had desired to give friendly comments to her lovely black dress, I couldn't. I was swooned terribly – shock waves flowed through my whole body from head to toe, my legs were trembling, my face was a uniform red, and my heart pulse was both fast and slow. I wanted deeply to give her a gentle hug but for feelings of inadequacy I hadn't.

My feelings for her have ultimately become a distraction for me, regardless of how pleasant it is to feel that way – it's eating me alive, I'm always questioning if she ever thinks about me, if she likes me at all, if she thinks I'm worth her time, if she cares at all about how I feel. I've come to the conclusion that the only way to rid myself of this is to express my feelings. I'm positive she is already aware of my infatuation through my body language so it won't be such a surprise were I to express it, but I don't want to be creepy. I'm thinking of giving her a love poem anonymously, and only giving her clues as to who I am – that's all I could come up with. Any better ideas?