You push up your glasses and you ask me personal questions and you smile because you already know where this is going, I think we both know where this is going.

Your bed is small but it's big enough for the both of us and I can't even pretend like I'm not a nervous wreck when you stop and look at me and say "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Because it is what I wanted and it always has been and I'm not going to say that it always will be but I'm also not going to say that it won't always be, because you're my friend and when I'm sad you pick me up and put me on a pedestal and tell me that I'm strong when I feel weak.

You tell me that I can be better when I feel like I couldn't be..

At best, anything more than distant and obsolete.

You're gabbering about things I don't care about and after a long wait I finally felt it again, you pressed yourself right up to me

And I could have died right there on the spot, with your palms on my hips and your fingers digging in because I like the way you feel next to me even though sometimes I don't like you.

Even though sometimes I don't like you, you mean the world to me

And your lips on my neck and your hands sliding into me meant the world to me

Is that pathetic? Maybe at best

But I know it doesn't mean anything, well, it does, but nothing relevant or interesting because you and I will never be and never could be

Anywhere except between each others sheets wedging ourselves into each others clothes hoping that one day we won't have to look at each other for this kind of feeling

Especially when there's nothing there