Find my eyes in a crowded room and smile at me. Choose the seat closest to me. Ask for my phone number and text me deep in the night to tell me you miss me. Make hypothetical plans with me you will never follow through on because you are too busy. Leave likes across all of my selfies with fire-heart-eye comments. Give me compliments about how much you love the style of my hair and how much you like the way I dress and how much you enjoy spending time alongside me. Make me feel like you are interested in more than a one-night stand. Give me reason to believe you are going to become my boyfriend.
Lead me on, because it’s not like I am going to end up heartbroken. It’s not like I am going to grow attached to the idea of you, stay up every single night imagining what it would feel like to have your arms wrapped around my waist, and count down the seconds until I see you again. It’s not like all of the flirting you have been doing will convince me to fall hopelessly in love with you.
Lean your knees against mine when we are sitting side-by-side. Brush the hair off my face when it falls in front of my eyes. Take me out for food and insist on paying for both of us. Offer me your sweatshirt in the cold. Invite me to your place so we can spend private time together. Show your jealous side whenever the name of another boy leaves my lips. Act like you are always on the edge of making the move I have been waiting for, like it will only be a little while longer until you voice your feelings and make our situation official.
Lead me on, because it’s not like it will be difficult for me to get over you after you walk away without a warning. It’s not like I will spend weeks, months, maybe even years searching for closure because you were not kind enough to explain what the hell you were thinking. It’s not like I am going to develop abandonment issues and have my trust issues worsened because I cared about you and you decided you didn’t care about me. Not enough. Not anymore.
Hold my hand and squeeze. Hug me from behind. Place an arm around my shoulder and let me lean my head against you. Run the tips of your fingers up and down my arm until the goosebumps rise. Invite me beneath the sheets of your bedroom with your body snug against my own. Press your lips against my forehead, my stomach, my neck, everywhere within your reach. Give me every reason to believe you want me as much as I want you. And then drop off the face of the planet, never to be seen again.
Lead me on, because it’s not like I am going to care. It’s not like it makes a difference to me.