Honestly,

Damn you.

Yes, you read that read that right. I said, "Damn. You."

Why? What did you do?

Oh, haha. Very funny. Your innocence is so entertaining.

You frickin' took my heart.

FYI, you didn't steal it. No, my heart is being held under conditions similar to your flannel. By which I mean, I gave it to you willingly and then you stubbornly refused to return it. And yes, Benjamin, you did give me the flannel willingly. It was when we were at her surf competition, that one where it sprinkled the whole. frickin'. time. I said I was cold. You handed me the flannel without even batting an eye.

A dumb move on your part. If you really wanted her to think you were interested in her, you shouldn't have brought another girl with you to her competition and then given your beloved flannel to said girl. But anyways.

You asked for my heart. I gave it to you.

"But I didn't ask for it," you protest.

Maybe not in such clear words. But from the moment you quit minding your own business to tell me that you loved my shirt and thus initiated our wild, reckless friendship, you were asking for my  attention. You slipped into my life, tugged me into yours.

"Yeah, as a friend," you say.

True. I certainly wasn't interested in you in the beginning.

It wasn't until that night when we ended up wasting thirty bucks on tickets for a movie we never watched. Do you remember that night?

I'd stopped by my house before meeting up with you to pick up the flannel. My dad told me that my mom was gone.Though it didn't do much at first, by the time I'd gotten to the theater the news was ripping me apart. I burst into tears the second I saw you. Without even knowing what was wrong, you pulled me to your chest and held me.

I think that's when it all started.But, you know us, we're both independent, self-sufficient people.Which means sharing is a grand gesture of care and trust. Attachments freak us out because of dependency and all that crap. So naturally, I denied my feelings. Friends comfort friends, don't they? It doesn't mean anything. Right?

Honestly, if your sister didn't call me last night, I'd probably still be in denial.

But she did call me, crying, from the ICU.

So can you please wake up? Because I saw the scrap metal that was your bike. And the more I recall the way you looked lying there, the harder it is to ignore this feeling. It's crushing my lungs, making my heart ache.

And look, I know you're still going to like her if when you wake up. Even though she didn't visit you, or even care enough to do more than say, "hope he gets better". But I'm going to say this anyway, because I need to get this off my chest.

I love you.

Dammit.