Three things I need to tell you:

1. I've loved spending time with you. Every minute of it. Nobody likes my pancakes as much as you do.

2. I think you're a stud. "Adorably awkward?" Sure, maybe. But a stud nonetheless.

3. I like you. And I don't know what to do about that. Maybe make another batch of macarons, but somehow I don't think it'll help.

And if I really have become like a sister to you, so be it. Just that given the amount of time we've spent together, I really needed to come clean.

See you soon, with an armload of canolis.

Mir