A Bullet For My Valentine

My Not-Boyfriend Boyfriend,

You're driving me insane. I don't know why I'm doing this. You're not my boyfriend, and you never will be. I know it. In my heart, I know it. But I can't let you go, because you make me so happy---you make me feel so beautiful. And you know me better than anyone. You're my best friend, truly. Dad says that just because you don't show me how you feel the way I show how I feel, doesn't mean you feel less for me than I do for you. That I should be accepting of your own way of showing affection. And to a degree, I am. But sometimes, it feels like you really only care about me because I care about you. And that, lovely, is not acceptable. I know that. In my heart, I know that. But I still can't let you go. And that drives me almost as crazy as you do.

I love you so much, and I feel like you're using me just to feel loved. You wanted me to show you my body, and I did. Without regret, I did. And you wanted me to show you my heart, and I did. Without regret, I did. And you wanted me to show you my soul, and I did. Without regret, I did. But now you're asking to keep all those things while you give nothing in return---except an occasional phone call. Except for an occasional (more often lately) "I love you." Except for the little ways you do show me you care.

When you told me I was beautiful, you spoke with a tone of honesty in your voice, an honesty I could see in your gorgeous eyes, but I couldn't believe you. I couldn't. Because what if you leave? No. Not if. When. What about when you leave? You're going to go, and you won't have said much---you'll have made no promises, just as you wanted---but I won't remember that until long after in my struggle to get over you. Every day, I will remember the little things you did, and said. And they will torture me. And I will wonder how you could say all those things, and mean them, and not mean them enough to stay.

I know that, because they are what keep me here. Those little comments you make. Those little random ways you surprise me by showing me you care. And I know you care---I know you do. It's not that you don't care. It's not even that you don't care enough. It's that you don't show me enough.

And yet, if you did, I would run shaking scared. So, I guess what I'm asking for is not for you to show me more. It's for you to keep showing me.

I'm asking you not to give up on me---not to give up on us. We could beautiful together. We are beautiful together. Please don't give that up...no one will ever love you like I do. I promise.
I'd sacrifice this world to hold you.

- your not-girlfriend girlfriend

p.s. It would help a lot if you didn't just compliment my looks when you want to mess around, or while we're messing around. It means a lot then, too---but it would mean more if it didn't feel like...mmm. It would help a lot.