So I made a mistake. I told you what I actually think about you. I’m pretty sure it’s going to make you secretly hate me for the rest of our lives.

My honesty was brutal and because I regret it, I feel it is less honest than when I first started speaking.

Yes I think you look a little effeminate when compared to certain other guys. But even if you’re not hot or sexy it doesn’t mean I don’t think you can be incredibly cute sometimes.

I’m not sure why people think certain things about you and why we question. It makes me angry now that I’ve been the one to probably hurt you with my questions. Other people have asked you directly and you refused to answer so they made assumptions.

I made those assumptions too and I’m sorry. Just… UGH! Every time I talk to you I piss you off. One day I’m just going to bend the last straw and I’m not going to care.

When I talk to you I can’t seem to control my mouth, no matter how hard I try. I know my words are incredibly crude and disgusting to you but my thoughts run away with me.

My hands too betray me. As you stand I grab you, though I promise myself that I won’t. I say to myself every day, “You will not touch him today. You can’t. He shall hate you forever.” and yet as you stand, my hands go straight for you.

Along with my hands and mouth are my thoughts. As I stay at home my thoughts stray to you. I think of the way you make me laugh and the feel of your face, strange though it is.

Take this as an apology for my horrible actions towards you. I’m sorry that I can’t quite control what I do around you or how I think when your not around. Please accept that I don’t know what to do about this or about you.

That ultra sad panda moment when you realize that your friends do things every weekend without you. Granted, they don’t go off and make plans with each other; they usually go off with their other friends. But still, it’d be nice to have “other friends” to chill with over the weekend…
I did have plans with my cousins, but I was sick. The sad pandas continue.
I’ve always wanted at least one friend that I would be so close to that, if I wanted to, I could sleepover on a week day and go to school with her in the morning.
I don’t think Elena would let me. Marzi is closer to Lauren, and Lauren is closer to Emma. I don’t quite talk to Emma all that often. And my guy friends would be out of the question. Even if they were an option, Jerry is closer to everyone else except me. Hunter as well now that I think about it.
Woe is me. All dressed up with no place to be. Always the bridesmaid and never the bride. Asked to give comfort but never believed to have a problem.
This friend thing hurts a lot more than people think it does. I guess because people think I have “everything” so they don’t believe I’m in want of anything. I don’t care for material things. I’d give everything away to be less lonely. Isn’t that what everyone wants? A friend, a companion?
It reminds me of a song from Barney where this little girl would do everything with her teddy bear. That’s kind of how I feel now. Just you and I, Teddy. You and I against the world.

You consume my thoughts. I’ve called a friend your name at least three times during conversation.
I was staring at you in class yesterday. Smooth brown skin and lips pulled into a blasé frown. You seemed to have been skillfully etched, a statuesque figment of my musings.
It confuses me, this infatuation. You’re nothing like my expectation of men. Understand I mean no offense when I say that you are a boy. Despite the hair on your chin you have such a soft face, almost feminine.
But I find myself wanting to reach out and feel the smoothness of your skin under my fingertips, taste your smile, lean my ear on your chest and sync the beating of hearts.
I don’t want our connection to end at texts of sweet nothings. So once again I ask you, don’t forget me.