You have yet to realize the effect you have on me. I spend days thinking of the awkward eye contact we have during class. Such simple communication, but I can't help over thinking about it. It's like we speak in wingdings and I have yet to decipher what you are trying to say. I try to talk to you, but the only thing stopping me is myself. The sense of being imperfect is overpowering and I don't have the strength to battle it.