You confuse me.
I thought we were supposed to be friends. I opened my heart to you and told you about my relationship with Mister Fire. I was all broken up about him being a poly. You said that it was okay, I'd find someone who'd do anything to marry me. I cried, you lent me your shoulder. You stroke my hair and made me feel loved. You asked me what I really wanted from life and I told you.
I thought I could trust you. I told you my biggest secrets and you listened to me.
I had the best time with you yesterday. I really enjoyed your cooking, your funny stories, watching a movie together and talking with you. I am a bit tired though, since you kept me up chatting until 2 a.m. But it was totally worth it.
What you said on Monday wasn't that strange, even though I reacted a bit strangely. You told me that I shouldn't go looking that far for the perfect boyfriend - maybe he's somewhere closer than I believe. I made a somewhat funny joke about my guys being hockey players, firefighters and all kinds of lawyers and doctors, but there's always something wrong with them. You laughed at me when I said that hockey players are seldom smart, and smart guys are seldom athletic. You made me realize that you are the whole package and that you're fun to be around. I think you're a bit weird occasionally, but in a good way. You make me smile and I like it.
Now, what happened yesterday was ok. I had fun talking to you, although you asked me about Mister Fire on several occasions. You seemed sort of worried about me, you asked me if my heart was broken because of the guy. It was kind of sweet, thanks for caring. Why did we discuss weddings and relationships that much yesterday? You told me that you could easily picture me walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. Why would you do that?
Day dreaming about our trip to Vietnam was really nice too. I told you about my traveling dreams and you were mentally boarding the plane with me - although you didn't like my idea of riding a bike on the great wall of China. You said you'd take pictures of me biking around, wind in my hair, laughing... I'd like that.
I got a bit scared when you said that you haven't been able to talk to a girl the way you talk to me. I know you appreciate me and my wits, although you never say it aloud.
I get the fact that you wanted to sleep really close to me, but you could have gotten me a blanket of my own. You told me that you lent the spare blanket to your roommate and would get it back "someday". I thought it was okay, you and me are really close anyway. You've seen me naked loads of times, I'm sure you can handle me in my My Little Pony pj's under the covers.
The way you had your arms around me in the morning made me want to hit snooze. And I did, for 45 minutes. I really loved the way you stroke my hair during the night. I was awake although I pretended to sleep. I fell asleep in your arms easily because I felt safe there.
Thing is, I love being close to you. I find it amusing that you like me a lot, that you're flirty and tease me about my stupid manners. You're not the perfect gentleman... In fact, I can't recall that you've ever commented on my appearance. When I got a facial, you just said "your aesthetitian did a good job!". Gee, thanks? :D
But still, there's something missing. I know you want to spend time with me and I like it - as I said, I love spending time with you.
But you know what? I'm in love with Mister Fire and I can't change that.
I hope you can forgive me and still be my friend.
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