You know, I think the worst thing you ever did for our friendship was kiss me. Because you didn’t mean anything by it, or not what I wanted it to mean. I still don’t think you get it, even after two confessions. I don’t think you understand how ready I was to make a commitment to you, based on a kiss that didn’t mean anything to you.
I wish you would stop saying you loved me, stop saying I was your best friend, and that I’m like your brother. But especially, I wish you would stop saying you loved me. Because frankly, you don’t. You keep saying these things that you know you’ll never have to back up. The balls always going to be in your court, I’m never going to ask anything of you. That’s just how I am. I’ll never work up the nerve to say anything more than, “hey by the way, I love you. Just thought you ought to know.”
I finally get the picture. Well, sort of. I still don’t know what it is about me that makes you unable to ever fall for me. It must be something big to make me so unlovable to somebody so boy crazy. But at the end of the day the fact is that I’m not good enough for you. Whatever, I’ve made my peace with that. I wish I could say that I’m willing to get past it and be a friend to you, but at this point, I don’t think I can do that.
You’re poisonous to me. Loving you is an ordeal that is making every aspect of my life rather miserable. I’m going to try to get over it, wean myself from spending time with you. Damn, but that’s going to be the hardest part. I just want you to know how ready I was to drop my entire life to be with you, at one point.