Dear... You, Whom I Hate For Being The One I Fell For
You.
You're a smartass.
You're annoying.
You're too serious.
You're too blunt.
You're better than me.
I knew that I had the capacity to, theoretically, like a guy. But why did it have to be you?
You, who made me confused for weeks. I thought I'd had myself figured out.
But then you and your dumb jokes and your good grades threw me off.
I hate myself for falling for someone like you.
Someone level-headed and serious.
Someone untouchable.
You're a closed f**king book.
I've been your friend for the school year, which is now over, and I still know barely anything about you.
I can't read you.
And I have to sit here, pining for you.
You said you don't want to visit Brooklyn.
And you'd never invite me anywhere.
So I have the whole summer to sit here, thinking of you.
F**k you for that.
Part of me wishes I didn't like you.
The other part doesn't want these feelings to fade.
I can't believe I fell for you.