I should have kissed you that night.
Yes, I admit defeat. Wipe that adorkable smartass grin off your face, yes I like you.
You are the bee’s-knees. You are witty, intelligent, kind, and sexy as hell. You are sharp as a tack-a little more so than me (a rarity) and that is attractive. I can’t stop thinking about you. You are tall, dark, handsome, brave, and a gentleman. You are the epitome of hot nerd-my kryptonite.
You hit on me ten days before I left for Europe. I consider this extremely bad timing. To be fair, you did not know the object of your interest would be on holiday soon. It is my fault as well because I could not detect flirting even if it shot me in the face. My friend said you were flirting with me. I facepalmed.
Truth is, I had a crush on you for a while and chose to avoid eye contact with you to hide my feelings. However, after you showed interest, I worked up a great deal of courage to casually mention I was going to be at this bar one night if you kinda wanted to be there. You showed, and from then on you were a gentleman.
I, unfortunately, lose all cool and quick wit when encountered with a crush. I also don’t know how to be on a date. I’m sorry. At the end of the night we had that weird “end of date moment”. I looked into your eyes and was unsure of what you wanted. I really wanted you to kiss me. I was afraid if I pressed my lips against yours, you would reject my advances. So I gave you two embraces-my being longing for the entire acceptance of yours. I looked into your face one last time and left you behind for holiday.
I thought about you everyday whilst in Europe. I daydreamed about strolling with you, hand-in-hand through Paris by the river Seine. At night, the Eiffel Tower is lit with beautiful twinkling lights-in that moment I imagined your arms around me keeping us warm in the cold.
I should not have thought about you so much. I told you of my feelings when I returned. You are dating someone but it’s “not that serious”. You still want me to talk to you. I take this to mean you’re uninterested. But I still like you and hope you would date me someday.
Then I found out. My friend likes you. You have slept together. You haven’t called her. I mention nothing about my feelings for you. This information kills my feelings temporarily. I am slightly ashamed to say I still have feelings for you but they are smaller in size and I cannot bring myself to act on them-but I want to.
I should have kissed you that night. I fantasize about planting a kiss on you in the middle of our heated banter, my hands gently grasping the sides of your face. I dream that you will arrive on my doorstep with a smartass grin and a bouquet of flowers. I wish you will find me in a crowded Gamestop and ask me to be the Princess Leia to your Han Solo.
But none of this matters. My feelings pale in comparison to logic. You do not want me. You would be here right now, and we would watch Star Wars and I would introduce you to Firefly. My imagination gets the better of me sometimes.
Never make someone a priority if they only make you an option. I say these words to myself everyday but I still want you.
I should have kissed you.