I thought you liked me because you would text me randomly. You would listen to me ramble on about the most pointless topics without growing bored. You would ask me how I was doing and wait for a genuine answer. You would set aside your time to focus on me when you could have been doing a million other things.
I thought you liked me because you would invite me over to your place. You would ask me to grab dinner with you and then pay for both of us. You would hang out with me one-on-one. You would introduce me to your friends. You would involve me in your world.
I thought you liked me because you couldn’t keep your hands off me. You would tickle me. You would play fight with me. You would dance with me. You would cuddle with me. You would compare our hand sizes. You would lift me in your arms. You would find any excuse you could to touch me — and I would do the same.
I thought you liked me because you would flirt with me constantly. You would quote my favorite shows. You would tease me about my taste in music. You would compliment my hair. You would look at me like your feelings were as strong as mine were.
I thought you liked me because you paid attention to the little things about me. You would be able to tell when I was in a bad mood. You would pick up on my little habits. You would bring up stories I didn’t even remember telling you. You would memorize my favorite candy bars and cheesecake flavors. You would retain more about me than most of my friends ever have.
I thought you liked me because you were jealous whenever someone else paid attention to me. You didn’t want me flirting with any other boys. You would get annoyed when I talked about guy friends. You only wanted me to pay attention to you. You wanted me to like you.
I thought you liked me because you told me you missed me when I wasn’t around. You told me you found me attractive. You told me there weren’t many other people who could make you smile the way that I did.
I thought you liked me because you gave me your jacket when I complained about being cold. You bought me food when I complained about being hungry. You told me I was pretty when I complained about looking like a mess.
I thought you liked me because you were protective of me. You would get angry when I told you someone had been mean to me. You would bandage my cuts when I hurt myself in another stupid way. You would honestly care about whether I was okay when most people only pretended to care.
I thought you liked me because you did all of the cliche things that boys do when they like a girl. You gave me a million signals. You made me believe we were going to get together — and then you walked away without explaining what the hell happened between us.