You're not her type you say.

And yet if I were to sum her, 'type,' up you would be it.

You're on point baby boy.

You've become obsessed to become her elusive 'type'.

And I only wish to say that I'm exaggerating when I say 'obsessed'.

But you are.

You've lost so much weight, to the point that you can even wear my 

loose sweaters comfortably even though I'm five feet tall. 105 pounds.

The things that you merely boast about have become about material 

things.

Losing weight to you now is like a trophy. Your eyes light up when you see that you've lost weight and you've been looking sickly. You control your calorie intake and it's lower than it should be for someone who exercises. You said once that you'd love to be my weight... but you're 5'8. 

I love you like a older sister loves their baby brother... but you're scaring me. I don't really know if you understand where I'm coming from.

I hope you're free on sunday so we can hang out again. I wanna tell you how being sick seemed the best way to be skinny for  me at one point.

Small secretive smiles. 

I quite like those.

More specifically the ones where the persons

eyes are lit with a dim glow of happiness. 

Yeah, those were my favorite kind of smiles on you.

I pretended to smile and laugh when you

made those engagement jokes.

It's not fucking funny.

I regret telling you now.

Because I don't know if you've ever seen

a person try to hold back from crying. But I was.

I was having a hard time opening my mouth to tell

you about it in the first place. The fact that I

even attempted to explain to 

you the reason why I'm not going to 

spend the rest of my life with the one person I would- was

fucking hard. 

You're either an insensitive twat or fucking clueless.

Either or... I'm appalled.

Ugh. I kind of don't want to be your friend anymore. 

But at the same time I want to explain myself to you- so you'll

learn to be more fucking perceptive.

More emotions flickered across her
face when she buried her nose in a book
than when she kissed him the morning
for work.

Sometimes I get prideful and think that maybe my feelings for you have faded (at least a little bit). So I make the mistake of lingering. And then there’s this heaviness in my chest that increases the more I try to push it down- to try to control it. But it’s irrepressible and all I want to do is to unravel all over again

I wanted you.
I wanted you because I wanted to corrupt you.
Corrupt that kindness in you that scared me.
Corrupt the sweetness in you that tempted me.
I wanted to taint you.
I wanted to taint you so that when I shoved you
into a wall- you'd curl your fingers through my hair and bring me closer.
I wanted to taint you so that before our lips met you'd smirk-
knowing full well how much I wanted you.
I wanted you.

Is it hard for you to say 'I missed you'?

Your initial tight squeeze of a hug caught me off guard.

It startled me to the point of not hugging you back.

You squished my face into your chest for a little while. 

I didn't mind.

I was tempted to put my arms around you and sway.

'I missed you,' I had no problem saying it. 

I told you a while ago, that once someone 

becomes special to me, I don't look back.

Shy? 

Why?

I missed you- and that's that.