I want to start by encouraging you to keep an open mind when you read this. I am aware that this is an incredibly peculiar way of communicating with a person you have never met. Trust me, if a stranger had handed me a piece of paper, I would be a little concerned yet undeniably curious. I hope that you can hold onto even a bit of that curiosity as you read my writing.

It is easy for me to write my thoughts on paper. Even when it comes to approaching someone and striking up a conversation, I know how to play my cards right. Somehow, with you, it feels like a leap of faith. I have attempted many times to collect every bit of courage that I have in me to talk to you. I swear it has worked before, with many people that have come before you. When the time came for me to engage with you, there was always some part of me holding me back. I could not quite tell what it was. Was it fear of embarrassing myself? Was it my ego?

And when I finally overcame these mental barriers, the timing was never right. Sometimes it would be you occupied with your people. Other times, it would be me caught up with mine. Even after rehearsing our first conversation in my head, I still fell short. I have kept brainstorming something, anything, that we had in common—a shared class, the same major, a mutual interest. But the only things we seemed to share fleeting glances in the cafeteria or on our way somewhere—or nowhere at all.

I am no mastermind, even if I try my hardest to be. I cannot seem to wake up early enough to sit with you at breakfast, and I honestly have no clue which friend of a friend I could ask to introduce us. No amount of ideating or empty promises made to myself that today is the day will help me bring myself to say hello when that day comes. After all, I do not know you. And you do not know me. It should be easy to greet a stranger. But maybe this is not the case when it is a stranger you picture yourself with.

Frankly, this is embarrassing, and every bit of reason I have is telling me to resist. But somehow, it is still easier to write these feelings down than to say it to you. And as much as I want it to be, this letter is not really for you. It is for myself, addressed to me as my leap of faith. It may be the reason why I finally connect with someone I admire or make a friend, but it could just as easily stand as proof of my tenacity. Or perhaps, it will remain what it has been from the start. A testimony of a person you do not know.