Fuggite, sciocchi!

I like no one, absolutely no one, but I liked you from the start. I liked you when I didn’t know you, and now that I do know you it’s only gotten worse. Sometimes, often, always, I think about you before falling asleep. Then I dream of you, and when I wake up my head’s still there, stuck on something funny, beautiful, filthy, intelligent that’s all about you. It’s been going on for a while, longer than you think, longer than you can imagine, and I should have told you, but I have this impression, this certainty that you’re half a second from running away, that I should give you enough reasons to stay. Is there anything I can do for you? I’ll take you grocery shopping and fill your fridge when we’re back home. Buy you a new bike and a case of decent reagent and that sludge you drink. Kill the people who made you cry. Is there something you need? Name it. It’s yours. If I have it, it’s yours.

There's something so beautiful and endearing about a man who is immediately attracted to a girl the first time they meet, but cannot make a move due to the circumstances surrounding them, so he tries to be cool about it and get her out of his head, but he can't, so he ends up yearning and pining for her from afar, inevitably, while the girl is completely unaware of the effect she's having on him.