Morgan, I'm sorry if you find this letter before I tell you this face to face. I don't have the courage right now to tell you, but I don't even want to, because I want to personally tell you, not through the internet. However, I have to say it to myself, because up to this moment, even I didn't realize how much you've affected me. I had an idea that I had a crush on you, but I didn't realize it was this bad.

It made me very happy to hear your voice today. You gave me the best present that anyone could have ever given me. It doesn't matter that you didn't call me; you answered, and that was all you needed to do. You don't know how much I debated with myself over whether I should call you or not, and you don't know how fast my heart was beating during the whole telephone call. It's still beating fast, and I almost cried after I called you. I thought about giving you a call while I was in Egypt, but I hesitated up until now because of that last night that I saw you. I thought that maybe you realized I was in love with you, and I feared that I did something to our friendship when you didn't answer my two e-mails. I'm glad that you wanted to talk to me, and that you said my call was the best thing to happen to you this week.

You don't know how long six months is for me. It's too long, but unfortunately our lives didn't coincide before you left for Washington DC. And now I have to wait another three months before seeing you again. For sure, these will be the hardest three months all because of the phone call I made to you today. That call was a miraculous and simultaneously horrible thing for me. Now I'm starting to hope that there can be something more between you and I, and this isn't good since you already had a boyfriend the last time I saw you. I'm hoping that he's out of your life now (I know that's selfish), but in the middle of all my hopes, I have a tiny, sinking feeling that he's not. But like the other two times that I've felt like this, the hopes don't care about that tiny feeling, and it's not going to be a pretty sight if reality shatters my dream.

Do you remember that first moment we had just to ourselves? That afternoon when we were doing that awful assignment that dealt with stereonets? We were talking about astrology, and you told me that a Virgo (like me) could never be with a Scorpio (like you, if I remember correctly). You said that there would be too many emotions between us two, and you made fun of me by saying that you couldn't accept my marriage proposal. I said that I was very disappointed, and after 30 seconds of silence, I said it again, owing to the fact that there was a little bit of truth in what I was saying, not just sarcasm. I don't think I even realized it, but I was struck by you right from that moment. (I'm still skeptical of astrology, though.)

I remember another time when you told me that you usually fall in love with your friends, and yet another moment in the car when we were going to Long Valley for our volcanology class, and you told me for the first time that you had a boyfriend. You took me on a rollercoaster ride for those three months, and you did the same thing in these last six months even when I didn't hear anything from you. You don't know how much pain and joy you've caused me at the same time.

It's not your fault, I know, and I'm not saying that it's your fault. It's my fault, like always. I want to tell you all this, but at the same time I don't want to because I fear that it will change our friendship. I was really happy to hear you laugh today, to hear about everything you've done, and it made me happy to know that you were interested in everything that I've done and everywhere that I've gone. I fear that I may lose all this.

At first I feel like I want to ask for your pity, because I fall in love precisely with those people who could be my best friends. The same characteristics that I want in a friend, I want in a girlfriend. You're very kind, fun, and passionate in what you do, not to mention beautiful. But I don't want your pity -- that's a typical reaction of mine. I want you to love me, I don't want your pity. I can't live like this for much longer, hiding everything I think and feel about you. But the thing that would make me feel worse would be not to not have you as a girlfriend, but to not have you as a friend.

If you happen to read this, do me a favor and put me out of my misery. It doesn't matter if you give me good news or not. But I can't do this every time I fall in love with someone -- I've fallen in love only three times, and it's taken me almost a year to get over each one. The only thing I ask of you is not to tell me over the internet like I may have done with this letter.. call me, write me, or find me and tell me face to face, but do it in a personal way. But if you love me or not, please don't let this get in the way of our friendship; that I never want to lose.