I’ve been your friend since day one. Problem is, I don’t want to be just your friend. I never have. But you seem to think that I am your own private therapist. You text me at random times saying something super depressing, like, “I give up, I’m done trying,” or “You ever feel like you’re alone even when you’re with friends?” and I try to come up with something to cheer you up. I’ve been fine with that, but last night was just ridiculous. When you said that the only thing girls do is let you down, that you’ve never met a nice girl, I had to put down the phone.
I desperately wanted to say, “What about me?”
I go to your house to give you hugs and listen to you when you’re upset.
I always answer your depressing texts, even when you wake me up at 3am.
I go on random late night walks around campus with you.
I always try to cheer you up any way I can.
I’ve never gotten mad at you when you talked to other girls.
I have never put you down.
But I guess that isn’t what nice is to you. It’s not date-able.
I’ll be waiting for you to realize that it’s me, the girl who’s been there for you through thick and thin, that you really want to be with. That those other girls aren’t worth the heartache.