Things I'll Never Say

I love him. I love him. I LOVE HIM!1

It's just one of those things. You don't really see it coming, but once it's there it hits you like a ton of bricks, and it stays over your head like a rain cloud until you do something about it.2

He and I have an amazing friendship. We can tease each other, argue and make up, text each other just to repeat some stupid inside joke from earlier that day in hopes of getting just the slightest chuckle. We just click, fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.3

I never actually thought that hearing someone's voice could literally make my heart skip a few beats, but his actually has. Multiple times. And sometimes I'll just be sitting there, and I can smell his cologne as if he's sitting right next to me. And when he laughs it's the really most glorious sound in the world.4

I even love when he gets all intense and weird, and makes me feel like I'm annoying him. I know him well enough to know that when he acts that way, he's just got a lot on his mind. He's a deep thinker, another trait I love about him.5

Every time he hugs me I get all warm and happy. Every time we're together, it's like I've fallen into some chick flick: you know, the ones where the girl falls hopelessly in love with the guy and he does all these cute, adorable, lovely little things when they're together, but still she isn't really sure if he loves her like she loves him. It's so cliche', but I love him. I do.6

Of course, no one believes me because I'm a teenager. I don't care if I'm supposed to "play the field" or "date around." I know what I want: him! I don't want to deal with all these stupid boys that just want to get girls in bed. I want someone I can be myself around, who loves me for me, who is content if we go out or if we just stay in and watch movies under the same blanket. It's so naive for adults to be saying that "No teenager knows what love is so they have to play the field and find out;" that drives me absolutely insane! I don't even like playing field sports! 7

And hey, adults: if it's not love, then what the hell is it? PMS? I don't think so.8

So maybe I like tons of bricks. Maybe the rain is my favorite type of precipitation. Maybe that's why I keep holding on, keep hoping that one day he'll realize, hoping that one day he'll see that I'm the best girl for him and that I care about him more than any other girl could possibly imagine. Maybe one day we'll be together. Maybe one day he'll know how much I stick up for him. Maybe one day he'll see the light.9

Maybe one day he'll love me too.