Dear Bliss,
Today I wrote a song for you.
It's lame and mostly talks about how your hair is really shiny but I can't stop singing it.
I showed it to my mom and she was laughing and smiling along with me. She really likes you. She says "Bliss makes my baby happy, and for that she makes me happy". She's a sap but she's really fun and nice when you get to know her. Maybe you will someday.
I remember the first time I heard you sing.
We were in freshman year and you were giving a presentation on how music can cure mental disabilities. You sang "Cough Syrup" because it talked about love and medicine and losings minds haha. You had your friend Molly play guitar for you, even though I know you can play. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life. Well, other than your laugh.
Sometimes when I'm in my room with the window open, I can hear you singing to yourself while you walk your dog. I laugh every time because if your voice cracks or your dog does something you sing badly to go with it like you meant to do it on purpose.
You're beautiful and funny.
Your dog actually got into my yard a couple months ago. My mom saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally talk to you so I went over. Your mom answered the door though. She was really grateful and even asked for my name. She told me she would tell you I stopped by. I don't think she did.
It's fine though I don't think I was ready to face you. I'm pretty sure if you opened that door I would have thrown up or fainted or something.
I'm pathetic. And you're perfect.
With all my esteem,
William Jonathan Walker