As a writer, I look at life differently than most people do.
There's the way things are,
then there's the way things are supposed to be.
With the way things are, I'm desperately in love with you. And I have been for over a year now, and will continue to feel this way until the vast and immense depths of infinity, or at least until I go to high school next year. If that. You've got your jerky complex, but still that heart of gold. With eyes that change color and perfect hair and perfect everything, really. Maybe not perfect for everyone else, but certainly perfect for me.
And, also, with the way things are, I think you like me, too. I usually hate saying that out loud, since it makes me feel arrogant. Or, maybe too self assured. Like it's more commonplace, more humble, for me to tell others that I believe you friend-zoned me, as opposed to admitting that I think you're totally into me. Maybe as much as I'm into you, if not more.
But, seriously, I doubt anyone could like a single person more than I like you.
And, with the way things continue to be, I foresee us dating in the future. Probably high school. We're both mature, I know that. So we've kind of created this unspoken agreement that what we have now is pretty good - you know I like you, and I guess I'm supposed to know that you like me too - and that it'll continue to be pretty good until you say it isn't. Because we both know that I'd follow you into an erupting volcano if it meant appeasing you. I'm just that pathetic.
And that loyal, that committed to you. So much that being dedicated isn't necessarily a bad thing, although I hate every trait I have that relates to being your little puppy. Even if you think I'm cool and real and everything's all good. Because when I tend to be in your service like this, am I really all you crack me up to be?
If I could have it my way, you would be with your ex girlfriend, and I wouldn't like you anymore. I would have never liked you, actually. You and her are perfect for each other. More perfect than you and me, more perfect than anybody, really. She's blonde and you're blonde, she's got blue eyes, and you've got blue eyes, and she's just the perfect height where she can rest her head on your shoulder, without it being awkward.
But, more than that, I think you care about her. Or, maybe that's just your extended game of common courtesy that you never show me. Even when you're trashing her to me, or telling me how nasty the cookies she brought in today were, I feel like you feel like you could still potentially make things right with her. And I think, if she's anything like me, she sees you and her as a walking mistake. One that could easily be mended if both parties took the leap.
And, sometimes, I think of you guys like a sitcom. You were the couple that all the fans shipped, who shocked everyone with your breakup. And a couple years later, you still have that witty banter, those cute exchanges. You argue, but you're a good team. You would stick by her side when it counted. Probably more than you would stick by me. You two are America's sweethearts. And everyone pushes for you to get back together, because everything about you guys is just that perfect.
If things went my way, you and her would be together. And you'd still be my best friend, probably even closer than we are now, but we'd be like siblings. I wouldn't like you, and you wouldn't like me.
I'd be with my guy best friend, the one who has a crush on me that I can't bring myself to like. We'd be a cute couple that all of our friends approve of. He's tall enough where my head can rest on his shoulder without it getting awkward, and we're both brunette, besides my purple hair-dye. And we have the same sense of humor, the same interests, the same support for each other. This certain kind of confidence in each other where I can tell him anything, when I couldn't bring myself to let you know me.
We'd go on double dates, and your girl would be my best friend, and my guy would be one of your closest buddies. We'd be the stars of our own sitcom, and no one would ship us. Maybe some, but not many. Only maybe people like you and me.
We'd be those two that no one really pairs. Because you're my height; I can't lean on you without it looking weird. You're too cool. I'm cool, but not in that context. We're too similar, so we clash. You want more out of me than I can give - you want me to be funny, but not too abrasive, you want me to be smart, so intelligent I'm a genius. You want me to be myself, because this is all you think I am.
But with the way things are, I don't think I can ever live up to your expectations. And someday, you'll get to know me and see that I'm not the person you really want to be with, if you haven't seen it already.
She is.
