It's so strange to call you friend,
When I've never heard you laugh,
And I've never seen your smile,
And I've never shook your hand.
All I have are words
From the past four months,
And a little bit of trust,
And a little bit of fun.
I've told you things I shouldn't have;
Asked things I've no right to know.
I haven't met you yet,
And yet I miss you when you go.
We stay up late talking,
And I worry that it's wrong,
But then catch myself wondering
If you miss me when I'm gone.
I don't know why I trust you;
I don't trust easily.
I guess part of it comes
From you trusting me.
And I kind of want to meet you,
But I'm kind of afraid,
Because what if I'm not the friend
That you think you made?
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