Words I'd Like to Tell You.

"A Friend With Benefits."
I guess you mean more to me than I mean to you. I love you. Not the kind of love like Jack and Rose shared. But I love you like a good friend that I'd give anything to be close with. And it hurts. Because now I've been close to you, but it's only the kind of closeness where I give you head. We're missing something. And I have all of these words and I don't know how to say them. I always want what I can't have. And I've come so close to getting it, but it's emptiness without those feelings. We would never be perfect. I'm not like you and you aren't like me. But I love how you are, and I love how you love how I am. We would be terrible, but we could be terrible together, you and I. And I'd listen. And I'd laugh at your jokes like I always do. Because you genuinely make me feel better about life. I love you. And I don't know what kind of love it is, or even if there are different sorts of love. But if ever I have felt love, I have felt it with you. So I don't think ****ing you is wrong. And I don't think it's awkward when we go grocery shopping for orange juice and bacon, even though I don't eat bacon. I think it's lovely. And I want to do it again and again and again. I guess we've opened a door that can never really be closed, but no matter what happens, no matter how many times we see each other naked or make each other laugh; no matter how many times I cuddle up next to you when we're alone, and then act as if nothing is happening between us when others are around, I want to always be close to you in some way. I love you. And that will never, ever change. You're my friend above everything else. I only hope that you see me that way, too.


"You Know Me, But I Don't Know You. Whose Fault is That?"
You have me pegged. And it doesn't piss me off like I thought it would. It's kind of comforting, to have someone who knows me. And it's odd, because I've never known you in the most common sense of the word. You're so far away, yet so close to me. And you know me more than anyone. How strange, that I choose to let you in when you can only come so far. And I love the nights when you get drunk and compliment me. I don't know what to say, but it's those times when I know that you know me. And I love how I let you call me what I don't let anyone else call me. Even more than that, I love how I told you to stop calling me that, but you didn't, and then it grew on me. Only you. One day I'll know you, too. I promise you that. One day I'll give you the biggest hug, and it will feel warm. A familiar comfort in strange arms. That's what it will be. And I'll tell you all my secrets, and try to get yours out of you. "I really do adore you," you told me. I wasn't drunk enough to tell you my response to that. How strange it is to meet someone like this, and then gain such a wonderful and beautiful friend. I've never hated distance more than I do now. But I'm not afraid, because distance could never shatter the strength of our friendship. I have found someone who knows me, and distance will not take that away. I guess what I'm trying to say is: I adore you, too.