I like him.
he makes me laugh without
ever really doing anything hilarious
and he’s cute and wears nice shoes
and I like the sound of his voice
and also his eyes and his hands.
But, there is someone I like better.
That is you.
You’re the closest I’ve ever come
to knowing sunshine or stability.
I can’t count the things I know about you
(even if I use my fingers and toes).
You’re my very best friend,
you’re the only person who
I wanna talk to on bad days, you know?
You blow all the darkness away
with overly expressive mannerisms.
I live for the nights where we stay up late
tracing over the fossils of our friendship
over the times when we thought
everything was going right
(when I kissed him
in your front yard last April)
and when everything was going horribly,
horribly wrong
(when he flaunted himself
in front of you last August).
When everything was changing,
I still had you. I still had Chinese takeout
and my sixteenth birthday cake and
sea water bath bombs and that stupid
Jack Johnson song about being in love.
And we are not in love,
but it really is better when we’re together,
because you are a mason jar full of everything good.
I like him.
I do, I really do,
But, he likes you.
And that makes me sad and angry a little.
But I will not let his attention wedge itself
between me and the only person who loves me
like I wish I loved myself.