I love you as if you were a beautiful painting. I don’t want to go out with you, hold you, or even talk to you. The bittersweet idea of you is enough. I don’t love you as if you were my lover, my brother, or a piece of music. I love you as if you were part of myself. You are my catalyst, changing my view of everything, but unchanged by me. But I don’t want to change you. You’re like a strange and delicate ice scultpure, created by a freak of the weather, that might melt and disappear if I touched it. In any way. You’re like a book which I can’t interfere with, in case I spoil the ending. I can feel fate around you. You’re going somewhere. Bittersweet, delicate. I thought you’d like to know.

If mad is a british word for crazy, then yes.

*gets big, tear-filled anime eyes*

I knew you cared!

Is this about/to someone? If I received something like that I wouldn't be touched so much as I'd think "What a wimp!"

If s/he's unobtainable, s/he might think "stalker weirdo!" If s/he's obtainable, s/he might think "Boo hoo, why won't he spend time with me?"

But this is just my half-assed impression.

Hit up Hallmark. All the affection, none of the creepiness.