You are the boy who has it all, but you don't know everything.
I would argue that I've met people more intelligent than you but that's hardly true. You are easily the smartest person who knows my first name.
The way you talk to people makes them want to listen to you, because your words are careful, and crafted, and full of knowledge. It's like you are made of Math and Science and History, and that shows. You never run out of metaphors, and you impress a certain type of untouchability on people of an intelligence they can only hope to attain.
As if blessing you with a beautiful mind wasn't already enough, God decided to give you a heart, too.
You smiled at everyone you met. You made strangers want to meet you. You were made of sincerity and kindness—everything that made good people great. You are also funny, engaging, exciting, and painfully beautiful up close.
Your soul is timeless, and my favorite thing in the world is to dive in it. You are everything the world wants to be made of. You are already beautiful on the surface.
I endlessly wondered what I would find beneath, if I was the one you would let in.
But I wasn't.
I was just the girl you believed in. I know this because you have told me one too many times. I was just the girl you believed in, not the girl that made you believe.
What would it have been like to be the kind of girl who drove you mad? The girl who took this man and his words and his knowledge and turned him inside out, made him go insane?
If only you had let me love you. If only you had known that I wanted to love you.
But you never did. To this day, we both have different versions of "us" to ourselves.
To you, we are old friends, reccurring friends, friends who'd see each other once in a while and leave it at that.
To me, we were all that I have ever hoped for and all that never happened.
But you don't know that, just like there are a lot of things you don't know about.