If I could tell you everything, well, I just wouldn’t. Even if I wanted to, I would shake and mumble and everything I would say wouldn’t be what I wanted to say. You seem to have that power over me; making me nervous, making me sweat. You could be the sweetest boy or the roughest man; you should just know I want it all. Here I am, trying to type it all out, hoping it goes smoothly, but even my fingertips are having a hard time focusing and putting down everything I need to say. I have to end this now, but perhaps someday I will be able to tell you everything. Perhaps this is what being speechless is like.