The Problem With Being 'Just Friends'
RomanceLove

The Problem With Being ‘Just Friends’

He specifically told me he didn’t want anything serious. And I didn’t want anything more than his friendship. Somewhere between our hangouts and conversations, I slowly started to see him as more. I was intrigued by him. It was a process that was so alien. I got to know him a little better, it sounds stupid but our vibes just matched so well. The first time I met him, I thought to myself “I want this person in my life.” Even if it was just as a friend. It was instant relaxation. My soul, everything inside me relaxed in his presence. I never felt that sensation before. It didn’t take long for me to realize that he had a good heart, made me laugh, was intelligent, kind, mature and overall amazing. Suddenly one day, I slowly started to notice details about him.

At first, it was small, like the curve of his nose, or where his ear lobe met his face. Then I noticed how he would throw his head back, laughing like a little kid. Each time he laughed, it made my heart flutter in a small, innocent way. The time he told me how much he enjoyed his job, and how he was made for teaching, I could hear the passion in his voice. I never told him this, but he inspired me. I never met anyone like him, he was one of the good ones. I’ve never known someone so easy to adore. I loved his pretty brown eyes, they quickly became my favorite color. His smile, his laugh, his dimples, his sounds. It’s like he turned from a black and white picture into 3D color.

One day after we said our goodbyes, it hit me. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. All I wanted to do was kiss him, touch him and hold him. I selfishly wanted him, all of him, not just a piece of him. I wanted him all to myself and the thought of sharing him drove me crazy. I wanted his laughter, his smiles. The shine in his eyes whenever he talked about something he was passionate about. I wanted his sarcasm and humor. I started wondering what I could do to make him happy. To me he was perfect. I found myself replaying little moments. Like how I felt when he put his hand on my thigh, and how his hands felt in between mine. I wish I held on a little bit longer. Our first kiss, and how it made me feel. It was indescribable. When I was with him, my problems disappeared. I stupidly wanted to think that this could have been more, but deep down I knew that we were only going to be just friends.

I wanted to be the one that he opened up to, the one that he trusted, but I wasn’t and that’s okay. He wasn’t mine, and he never was going to be. He was guarded, so careful and I understood that because that was once me. I learned that I’m just not made for “casual dating.” I suppose I always knew that, but I wanted to be normal for once. I won’t worry, though. There will be others like him, but they won’t be him. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. These guys will have love letters for lips. Each with a tongue I’ll actually familiarize myself with.

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