Friday, July 26, 2013


It's terrible, you say, and I will respond with: a bit, yes.
I am sad that you are like this. 
I do not wish this isolation on anyone.
And you being you, well,
I wish you knew how wonderful you are.
You're the one who tolerates and listens and agrees.
Stop hating yourself.
And you're the one doesn't smile,
Who laughs at the stupidest jokes and then
Observes on the state of things with me.
Stop making me like you.
See, my problem is that I'm not good at people.
You aren't either, but your awkwardness leaves you at an advantage because you're a guy. 
That's just how these things work.
But I am not good at people, and I fall out of contact too easily, and you have never questioned me for if.
And that time when you told me you really liked me?
I know it was a fluke, because of her, but it's stayed with me.
When I said it, I meant it.
I still do, and I hate that about myself.
I want to not like you as more than a friend more than I want anything right now.
But you get me, and no one else does.

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