Dipper's POV:
I pulled a piece of paper from a notebook and laid it before me as I took a seat at my desk in the attic. I reached over to pull a pen from the drawer and began writing.
Dear Wendy,
I have finally decided to tell you something that I've been holding in since the day I met you. The day I saw your face was the greatest day of my life. I remember you sitting on the porch, your feet up on a chair and your boots kicked off- your hair flitting in the moment I realized that I was in love.
Wendy, it's taken a lot to finally get the courage to tell you this. I would move the stars for you. I would catch a million fireflies so you can have light. I would walk across the earth and swim across the ocean just to see you.
I love you.
-Dipper
I growled in frustration. This letter was awful. I'll never get the guts to tell her. I crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room angrily. I didn't bother to look where it landed- for I was already leaving the room to go blow off some steam.