Dear Jamie,
I've got a letter I would like to send.
It's lacking strings of words with punctuation at the ends.
But should I trust this dialect
To convey the right effect?

dear riku
i really really really really really reaaaaaallly like you do you like me back (circle answer and please give it back)
yes no

Nine-year-old Sora looked at the slightly crumpled paper in his hands full with his heartfelt confession that he had wrote during math time, then shyly gazed across the playground to where the ten-year-old silver-haired boy – his best and much more popular friend – was, racing across the basketball field like he owned it.

The other boy was so graceful, like a butterfly, weaving around the other younger kids, fluttering away and escaping grasping hands skillfully. Riku bounced on his heels as he threw the shot and it fell into the hoop – Riku never missed.

Green eyes caught sight of him and Riku waved. “Come on Sora! You can be on my team!”

Sora took one last glance at the paper, the paper meant for the pretty boy currently luring him into a game. The paper that was full of his incredibly secret crush that soon would be not-so secret once he gave it to the other.

He crushed the letter up in a ball, throwing it into the trash bin.

“Coming!”

Dear Jamie,
I've got some things I'd like to set in pen.
I would have used a pencil, but lead's just not permanent.
Should I trust my printer’s ink
To express the things I think?

Dear Riku,
I like you. I always have because your so bautiful

“Argh!” Thirteen-year-old Sora raged, angrily swiping his pen across the words, effectively hiding them behind black ink. How did he misspell beautiful?! That was only like the easiest word in the whole dictionary!

He ripped the paper in half, rolling the halved sheets into two separate balls and throwing them in his trash bin – which was already overflowing with numerous failed attempts.

He looked towards his computer wistfully. If he wasn’t out of ink, he would have written it that way. At least then he wouldn’t misspell anything. Why oh why couldn’t his mom go to the store and buy him more? His courage wouldn’t last forever!

“Sora, dinner!”

The brunette sighed, unhappily getting to his feet and trudging out of his room. Maybe he’d do better after supper.

His mother looked up when Sora trekked into the kitchen, plopping down into his seat. “Oh and Riku called. He wanted to know if you wanted to sleep over tonight. It’s fine with me if you do.”

It was unfortunate, but Sora never did get back to his letter that night.

Every page I tried my best to think of something to contest with
Inside jokes and other folks who've got much more to say.

“Hey Riku, I hear that Norika has a crush on you.” Fourteen-year-old Kairi giggled, leaning across their lunch table as if she was sharing a big secret.

“Who?” Riku asked dismissively, taking a bite out of his ham sandwich.

“She’s the girl in my English class. You know the one who wears her hair up in a ponytail all the time and has that pink purse?”

Riku shook his eyes, patiently explaining, “I don’t date freshmen Kairi. I’m a sophomore, I’ve got a date above not below.”

“She’s really nice Riku!” Kairi argued. “And she said if you went out with her she’d give you her CD collection.”

“Hmm then maybe I’ll give her a chance.” The other teenager said, taking another bite of his sandwich. Extra mustard, just like he liked it.

Neither noticed how their fourteen-year-old friend, Sora, had frozen or was suddenly picking at his food like he had lost his appetite – Sora of all people who had the stomach to fit a whole pizza and a half and still be hungry. The nervous brunette suddenly stood, feeling queasy. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.” He explained hurriedly before vaulting from their table and to the boys’ bathroom.

Sora leaned against the white tiles, thankful he was alone and waited until his stomach decided to stop doing nervous somersaults. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his gift. It was a little 25 cent piece of nothing really – a thoughtless indulge buy from one of those candy machines from the mall – however the lucky return had immediately reminded him of Riku.

It was a necklace, a dragon made of cheap metal that was held aloft by a soft black rope meant to act as a chain. He fingered it. “Idiot. You’re such an idiot. You can’t compare to CDs.” Sora angrily gripped the pendant, snapping it in half before carelessly throwing it behind him.

The door slammed behind him and the little dragon, now in two pieces, lay forgotten at the bottom of the dirty sink where Sora’s heart now was.

Dear Jamie,
This envelope will represent my heart.
I'll seal it, send it off, and wish it luck with it's depart.
This stamp will be every action that carry my affection
Across the air, and land, and sea.
Should I trust the postage due?
To deliver my heart to you

Dear Riku,
Please hear me out before you throw this away and please don’t freak out. I know you’re dating Misty now and that’s okay – I know you’re probably going to stay with her even after I pour my heart out to you but still just keep reading okay?
I don’t want you to hate me, please don’t. It’s just I can’t keep this a secret anymore. I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. Really liked you. This is going to sound really creepy and stalker-like but whenever we had sleepovers I went to bed last just to watch you sleep.
You know all those times I told you that you had something in your hair and I was taking it out for you? I was lying just so I could touch it. It’s really nice and soft. I’m not sure how you do that, we use the same shampoo!
Remember when I grabbed your hand during that thunderstorm at your fifteen birthday party and said it was accident. That I was scared? Yeah I was lying. I actually really love thunderstorms. Lightning is really pretty and it reminds me of you.
I should probably stop, all this is sounding a little weird. Well I mean it’s probably going to be bad enough to accept I’m gay and I know you’re not but if I keep this silent any longer I might shoot myself. Please Riku, even if you can’t return my feelings or even if you can’t accept that I’m gay, don’t stop being my friend, please?
I think that’s all I really wanted to say. Thanks for listening or well in this case reading.
With Love,
Sora

Sixteen-year-old Sora hurriedly stuffed the letter in an envelope and licked it closed. He paused momentarily and before he could chicken out wrote S.W.A.K – Sealed With A Kiss – across the back. He turned it over, speedily writing down an address he could probably recite faster than his own, completing the letter by sticking on a yellow return address and a green stamp.

“Done!” Sora announced to the currently empty house before rushing out the front door and down the driveway to the family mailbox.

He paused, looking at the gray colored box with the bright red flag, there address numbers engraved on the side and painted blue. He bit his lip nervously, opening the little door, but his hand with his love letter hovered uncertainly at the threshold.

Was it too sappy? Was it too girly? Was it worth it? What if Riku hated him after this? What if he lost his best friend forever – or worse what if Riku got a restraining order against him? What if he never saw the other again?

He’d really be miserable then! He’d never want to jeopardize their friendship – sure his heart may twist painfully each time he saw Riku and Misty together and wished it was Riku and him. Sure his eyes watered each time he saw Riku kissing another girl. Sure his stomach would twist nervously each time they talked while Sora had his confession on the tip of his tongue ready to spill out. But, he’d been dealing with this for years, what was a few more? Or even forever? As long as Riku didn’t go away, it couldn’t get any worse right?

Sora drew his hand away, quietly snapping the mailbox door shut. He dragged his feet as he walked back through the door, kicking it closed. As he passed the shredder, he didn’t hesitate to stick the envelope in it, listening contently as the machine whirred to life and cruelly cut up the letter he worked so hard to write.

He dejectedly trudged towards his room, shoulders slumped pathetically and an unhappy frown upon his face, all thoughts of confessing utterly wiped from his mind.