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If you’re not going to believe—in me, in us—then you’re wasting your time.

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Falling in love with your best friend is the best way to avoid another heartbreak.

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Best of friends, and that’s it. Maybe that’s what’s destined for us after all.

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In my fantasy, you check your phone while out and step outside to be alone and read this whole thing, your heart beating.

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You showed up when my heart was at its most cynical. You came about when I rolled my eyes at commercials for sappy movies because, CLEARLY, that stuff is fairytale nonsense.

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You love me, yes, I know. But you love me like all the friends you have. Just like a friend.

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I want a best friend. Someone I can tease, joke around with, go out with, or stay in and binge-watch Prison Break with. Someone who will give me a genuine compliment when I look my best, but will honestly tell me when I look like sh*t and need to get my butt off the couch.

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I’ll drink a lot more red wine than I usually do for about a week straight, smoke more than I should, and look up related articles online about “how to tell your best friend you love them.” I’ll scrutinize every one of our encounters, trying to make them as flirty and suggestive as possible.