Dear Chloe,
I found them.
All those letters, notes, poems...
Well, maybe not all, but most.
At first, it was just by accident. I would see one at school or just lying down the road. Instinct and curiosity drove me to pick them up and before I knew it, I had a little collection in my pocket. So I put them in a box, where they would be safe. I felt like I had someone figured out, because of these notes. I knew them more than talking to them would ever tell me.
But then, I saw a pattern: wherever we ended up together, a note was left behind. I realised it was you who had dropped them, or left them, purposely.
I fell in love with you through those notes, Chloe.
All those times I was an idiot, like in the Kaffee House or at the park, and didn't talk to you or, even acknowledge you, I regret now.
I can't believe how blind I was and ultimately, how selfish.
But you Chloe, you have beautiful thoughts that seem to echo your personality as if the very words were just imprinted into the paper when you held it between your fingers.
So, I have to say thank you, for loving me, when I didn't know who you were, or who I was.
Thank you for telling me the truth, and thank you for wanting me.
For now, I hope you won't mind me getting to know you all over again.
I don't care what any one says any more. They shouldn't doubt you anyway.
Happy Birthday, Chloe McMullen.
You are incredible.
(found in the envelope attached to the box of notes)