I Like You, You Moron


You pull me close, then you push me away. You lie to me. You tell me that everyone is better than me. Then you pour your soul out to me and thank me. You are the definition of mixed signals.

We connect on so many levels, and you frustrate me on so many others. Every time I hear of your conquests, I think of your lips on mine. Do you brag about me too? Oh wait. We’re not supposed to talk about it. Because, you know, it wasn’t ‘right.’ Then why did you try to kiss me in the first place?

You pinch my cheeks, you ask me to move away. You envelop me in a hug, you untangle my arm from yours. I get it. You’re disgusted with yourself for leading me on. But did you ever think of how you’re breaking my heart?

You’re supposed to be my best friend. Best friends don’t cause so much pain. Enemies do. You’re allowed to brag about all the girls you’ve slept with. I’m not allowed to show any attention to my little brother. You act as if you’re so jealous of him, but when I want to love you more, you push me away.

Keep pushing me away, and I’ll go.

But then again, how can I? I live for your glances, for your calls. You’re not the type I usually like and we fell into friendship so easily. Now you’re just like every last one of them. Why is it that every boy thinks if a girl is single, she’s hitting on them? When an in-a-serious-relationship girl gets comfortable with you, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything. But, you know, every single girl is interested in you.

Some days you’re warm like pancakes, other days you’re cold as ice. I like you, you moron. More than any of them. But so help me God I don’t know how to make it any more obvious. Unless of course you don’t like me back, then in that case stop leading me on.

I’m so sick and tired of feeling like a loser. So frustrated that every guy I meet so quickly friend zones me. Why can’t I be the object of affection for once?

I show you love, and you walk all over me. I show you pain, and you think I’m being difficult.

What should I do? You’re smart – you tell me. Waiting is painful, letting go is painful, not knowing which to do though is the worst kind of suffering. So God, maybe this is an open letter to you then. What do you suggest, you know, in your humble opinion? Cause I need help. No, I’m begging you for help. I hate this feeling. I’m so incredibly lonely. Again.

I want to feel your gaze. I want my hair to stand as I feel your eyes search my face. The thrill of being watched. The joy of knowing someone gives a shit. Until you come over. And point out the girl you really want. Go for it, I say. Inside, my heart breaks into a million pieces.

Tonight, I make the decision never to put it back together again. I’ve done it too many times. It’s not worth it anymore. I’m surrounded. I laugh at the jokes. I fake it. Maybe you think it’s real. Maybe I should show you the pain I am going through so you know. But alas, I cannot bare the thought of your eyes full of pity. Of the discussions you will have with the boys. With the boy that invented the torture that breaks my heart. You will talk about my vulnerability. My lack of sexiness. You will compare me to my best friend and how you “wish she was single instead.” Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so smart. Being smart just hurts too much.

I can’t tell anyone how I feel. The awkwardness is still so raw. I still feel the sting for so shamelessly putting myself out there once. No. This time, I will suffer in silence. This time, I know better than to think anyone can help me. If someone has to ‘help’ it’s not meant to be at all. If you wanted me, I would know. I know. I guess my heart is just a little slow in catching up. So please forgive me. But today, I start to push you away. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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