Alright, look. I don’t understand this anymore than you do. I have clear goals for my life. I know where I’m going to college, what I’m going to major in, what kind of work I’ll do, and where I’m going to live. I know what kind of guy I’m going to marry, what our kids’ names are going to be, and exactly how we’ll raise them.
You are one of my best friends, and on the complete opposite side of the spectrum from the person I am and everything I have planned.
You’re naive and insecure; I practically raised myself and know exactly who I am. You live for today and don’t worry about the future; I can’t stop thinking about how great life is going to be once I get out of here. You don’t know how to be serious and have no manners; I’ve been dreaming of finding a romantic my whole life.
So why the HECK do I keep thinking about you? About how it would feel to lean against your shoulder at the movies, our hands intertwined on the arm rest, instead of sitting rigidly, trying not to touch each other? About just wrapping my arms around you and letting you rest your head in my hair, and telling me that things are going to be okay, instead of sharing stupid high fives? About you curling up on the couch next to me, arm draped over my side, rather than sitting in separate chairs?
I know you like me, because you try so hard to show it, and it backfires. Why else would you be so excited to go to prom together “as friends?” It was your idea, after all. Why else would you get so quiet whenever I mention liking another boy or any possible dates? I’ve always denied it because there is absolutely NO WAY you could be The One. But, like I said…
It’s our senior year, okay? I have to tell you about the stupid way I feel. Somehow.