A (collection of?) fictional diary entries. It's good practice for character empathy, so please feel free to add to it.
I remember one time, you showed me page 186 of your diary that you kept buried underneath the barbeque your dad had built on the grass when you were small. It read "I just long for his touch". You had kept telling me about this "boyfriend person thingy" but I was never 100% sure who it was, even though all signs pointed to me. The first time you met me I was drunk off my face. The first time I met you was in the morning. I awoke in the same building and you were sitting with Mack and Samantha in the living room. I'm still not sure why you wanted to make sure I was okay. I'm still not sure why you wanted to kiss me, either. All I know is that Mack said we liked each other from the start, and it all grew from there.
I kissed you in your house last night - our second kiss - after your brother told me to stop breaking your heart. That came as a bit of a shock to me, actually. I had no idea you had been in love with me the whole time. I'm sorry about that, and I'm sorry about everything else, too.
The problem is that you are always very indirect when you talk about love. I know it's true that I haven't done anything about the fact that you love me - every time it comes up, I just stroke your cheek and hold your hand and maybe wrestle you to the floor a bit - but despite your brother telling me how you have loved me from the beginning, I am never sure whether you've met someone else between our little encounters, who's "touch" you are longing for.
Anyway, I gave the diary back to you - not saying a word in case it wasn't about me - and you didn't explain the entry. You just buried the diary back under the barbeque and walked away.