Dear Top Choice School,
I love you.
You don't know me, and we've never met, but I know you. I've been internet-stalking you for weeks.
Wait! Before you decide I'm a total creeper and run off, never to look back, give me a chance!
We were made for each other, you and I. You don't know it yet, but you need me just as much as I need you (Okay, maybe that's true. I certainly need you. Really, really need you.) We could change each other-- help one another work towards lofty goals, push the other toward success and notoriety and respect.
In the evenings I sit around and fantasize about our life together. Oh how wonderful we would be as a team!
I know it's not right, not healthy. There are other schools out there (but none that, on paper, I like better than you!). And there are other students. Perhaps you'll find someone else you like better, someone smarter, or with more experience, or with more charm.
And then I'll be sad. Devastated. Because that's how much I've grown to love you. You see, I know we fit together perfectly, like yin and yang, or two pieces of a puzzle.
Hopefully, we'll meet each other soon, and I can show you what I mean when I say that you were made for me. Hopefully, you'll give me a chance, and will really let me lay everything out on the table, why my hopes and dreams can best be fulfilled with you, how I'm getting to the point where I can't imagine doing my research without you. And hopefully you won't mistake my eagerness for desperation, or my enthusiasm for avarice.
Just give me a chance, Top Choice School! Please! I know you're looking at other students, and maybe they're more qualified than I am, or maybe you're more attracted to them for other reasons I can't see. I don't know. But if you give me the opportunity to plead my case, if you set me up for success, I know you'll see in me, in us, what I've seen all along. We belong together.
Please, Top Choice School. Love me back. Accept me. You won't regret it.
Love,
jax
(Not creepy at all, right?)
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