I like you. I like your blue eyes, your words and the way you think. I wonder if you like me too because truthfully I can’t keep wasting my time hoping you’re gonna just kiss me in the rain or just reach for my hand when we’re driving. When we part I can’t help but wait anxiously for the next time I see you. I know that there are so many things in the way of you and me. I don’t want to wait but if you’re there at the end I will be patient. I want to yell at you for being so blind, for not seeing how hard I am trying to have you notice me. This whole situation is killing me. I want to tell you how feel so badly but what if you laugh or reject me. I think to myself what if I have been waiting for a “sorry I don’t like you.” I have the best conversations and debates with you, and sadly I can’t debate you and your feelings. I can’t show you how i look at it all because I have no control over what you want. I pathetically wish for you and each day I wake up to the same disappointment. I understand you’re older. By four years and if you’re not open to the idea it’s fine but i really wish you would be open to us. Remember when I went with you to get a tattoo? Truth is I wasn’t scared of the needle, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand. Ya know how I decided to make a list of stuff we have to do, it was only to spend time with you. I love the music you write and how passionate you are about your lyrics. I like how you don’t have it all figured out. How you’re the older brother of my best friend. How you love the Beatles and you play croquet. How you’re so randomly perfect for me, and it kills me how you don’t see it, too.