I love you. Even if I could say it, even if you felt the same, I couldn’t, because it’s too complicated. You know my TRUTH, and you’re not just okay with it, you enjoy & appreciate it. You are the same as a part of me. I know you. You might not seem like much to many people, but you’re so much to me. You’re so deep in thoughts & understanding. You’re so fun and creative and young. You know you changed me in one way, but do you know the others? Do you know the inspiration and knowledge and wonder you give to me? You’re such an exciting part of my life, and I think you feel the same about me. But, it’s all stories and passing emotion. We are observers. We see and stay safe.
It could never work. You’re busy and bitter. I’m young and flirty.
It seems silly, but you’re one of my best friends.
You may be the only person I fear dying. And you bet I’ll be at your funeral, visit your grave, plant you flowers, and talk to you.
I wish you would change sometimes; live a better, happier life. But I want you to know that you’re good enough already. You’re you; no one can change that. No matter how depressive/ moody/ rude/ stressed. I know just a little bit of how great you are.
I wish we could have something.