You think of me as a friend,
if I could just tell you that I do not.
You’re way more than a friend to me since a long time,
but I realized it only weeks ago.
We shared the same hometown,
but I never visited you.
I never WANTED to; chatting through ICQ seemed enough to me.
Now I want. But I can’t.
Now I know who my heart beats for.
There are feelings I feel for you,
that I’ve never felt for anyone before.
I want you to be here.
Not me being there.
I’m happy not to live there anymore; I’ve changed since I left.
I really love my friends, but Hankensbüttel isn’t the place for me to be happy.
Wish you were here, with me.
You’re my best friend.
You say “I love you”,
but I know how you want it to sound.
Friendly, or even sarcastically.
I can’t change it. Can’t change the way you feel.
No way out.
Often I’m dreaming:
Being in your room together.
Lying in your bed together.
Feeling love together.
And they lived happily ever after...
A noise rips me out of this dream.
It’s you on ICQ. You wrote:
Love you! *kiss* You know how I mean it, right?! ;)
I’m writing back: Yes, I do. I love you, too.
Typing: PS: I love you. But not like you think.
I never send it.