Sunday, February 12, 2012

I like you.

This post is supposed to be about bullies and bullying. However, I've changed my mind and have decided to further delay that topic for something light. Something of love. But I prefer to use like.

Like, we're all familiar when you're attracted to someone so passionately. Of course, this is 80% sexual. At least when talking about myself. I see him and just imagine undressing him or him undressing himself. Why do we wear pants anyways? Or shirts? Or whatever else? Anyways, this thinking is done in a very soft and secure gesture...all in my mind. I love that, so rebellious. And in real, we sit, chat, and all is very proper (appropriate) and casual. Hands folded or close to myself. Calculated distance of how close or far we sit from each other. We never look eye-to-eye at the same time. If we do, it's quick. But I know you know my thoughts of like. And it's great, because I've even told you, quite shamelessly. 

The remaining percentage is actually dedicated to some feelings that are not of lust. This 20% is more abundant than the hunger to be inside him. My thoughts are so consumed. Your smell. Your eyes. Smile. And your laugh, which makes me laugh. Lips. Hands. Hair. Innocence. Caring. Sometimes your kind. When you bought me coffee. I actually hate coffee. But I like seeing you. Awkward, my favorite quality about you. Above all, a jerk and true to your gender. Which is fine. But tell me, why do I look for you even in places you're invisible? Why, in most conversations, do I try to include you (nameless, of course)? Why do I revisit the places you might be in? My mind tells me, "Okay, today, we will not text. Run into you "by chance". We will not 'like' your status or whatever despicable profile picture you decide to put up next. We will not be the first to Facebook chat you. We will not like you anymore."  

I text...or call. I run into many times, and it's never enough. I 'like' your thoughtless statuses, some are okay. I 'like' your pictures. I chat you first. And it feels so good. Sometimes I feel pity, but even that feels good. I like you with all of me. And of course, the feelings are not mutual. I know. The misery is one-sided, however, sweet and serene. 

I'm not looking to undo this performance. Nor am I trying to win you over. You give me that comfortable happiness that is different from the rest. And I'm not letting go of that.