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I had to do it this way since you are smart enough to capture this from your roommate's phone, even if it doesn't allow screenshots. I don't want anybody to know about this except the two of us.

You think I am obsessed with you because I remember every small detail about you. But I'm not. And if that were the case, then I'd be obsessed with the whole world — because my father has wondered countless times how I am able to recall such fine details of events that occurred when I was so young that I couldn't even speak properly. I'm no genius, but sometimes my brain records events as if it were a camcorder. I tried to use this peculiar gift of mine to impress you, but it backfired. Strange — it had worked on every single person until now. They admired me. They were forced to think. They wondered.

You think that I like you. But here, too, you are wrong. I do not like you. I love you. I love you with all my heart. This could be ephemeral, or it could be infatuation — but this is the truth. I am telling you simply because I felt that a girl has the right to know what magic she is casting on a boy. Especially when the girl carries a quiet feeling that she is not beautiful.

After my heartbreak, I was under the strong impression that I would never be able to forget her — and that I would never love anybody else in my life. I had even told my father that I was not going to marry anyone (he corrected me gently, though). But you proved me wrong. Now, I am a little optimistic that whoever my parents choose for me, I might come to love her after being with her for some time.

I want many things and I might ask, but I never expect anything from you. You are free to completely ignore this, just as that girl did with me. She has already taught me how to handle these situations. Even if I feel something, I am mature enough to hide those things behind my laughter.