I’m impulsive, and I have feelings as well. Those two things together do not work well, when they combine in a person shit tends to go down and messes are made, life gets fucked up.
But because I am impulsive and emotional, I do things like I am right now. I do things like confess shit.
And once I get it in my head that I want to do something emotional and impulsive, there is literally no stopping me, because both of those things take hold and just run with whatever it is. And then my logical side is like “Yo, girl, what the fuck are you doing? You need to chill tf out and stop right now because jesus christ you’re insane.” but I never stop, and it is really not a good thing.
I know how this is going to play out too – I’m going to finish writing this piece, then I’ll reread it about three times, post it, reread it (and find a typo, at which point I’ll go back in and fix it) and then I’ll contemplate if sending this to you is really the best idea. I’ll come to the conclusion that it’s not, but I’ll do it anyway. Because fuck it, life is short and we have to live it to it’s fullest while we still can. But then you’ll get the link, and I’ll be like oh fuck he’s read it, and I’ll wait about ten minutes, at which point I’ll start worrying because TEN MINUTES, and you might start typing. You might respond. But you might also not. At this point, there’s only speculation about what will happen. And that speculation is why I’ll send it.
So, you probably know this, because I wasn’t trying to hide it (I wanted to be fucking obvious, anyway). But I like you, not in the friend way. I like you in the kind of way that I would like to drink tea with you on cold days while reading our favorite books and cuddling with a fluffy cat kinda way. I like you in the kind of way that takes over a person’s mind, and I can’t think about much else. In the kind of way that I want you to know.
But I’m decently intelligent, and I know that the odds are not in my favor. I know that we have been sharing awkward glances, and that what happened before wasn’t ideal (I mean, you’ve seen my boobs and I came into the band room and realized you weren’t interested in me because well, it was just obvious). But because I am a hopeless romantic and I am overwhelmed with the intense need to express these feelings in a very obvious and cringe-worthy way, I figured why the hell not? (Actually, I have come up with about a million reasons to not do this, and just about one that I should, but I’m doing it anyway.)
I like you. I like your hair, your laugh, your awkward gestures during PE, I like that we both despise the same people in class, that you play in band, that you seem emotional and caring, that you’re not obnoxious and loud, I honestly just like you. I like that you smile in an innocent, yet knowing way. That you aren’t an asshole. I like that you are compassionate and won’t directly tell me to back off because you’re really just a nice person. I like you. A lot.
I know this is futile, that you’re either not over your ex or you just simply do not feel the same way, but I wanted to tell you. It’s going to make my life miserable, and I’ll avoid you 110% more than I already was, and I’ll act like I’m not watching you out of the corner of my eye, but I will be, and I’ll act like I didn’t see you when I pass you at school, or that I haven’t noticed our math classes are adjacent, but I will have noticed these things. I won’t be able to ignore them.
So yeah, I have feelings for you.