I love you.
Not in a romantic, ooey gooey, sense,
In the sense that I want to spend every waking minute exploring your mind.

You speak in metaphors,
quite frankly, it leaves me
astounded, dumbfounded.

I am really good at identifying and analyzing metaphors,
so together we make a team of
figurative language superheros.

I am fire, and you are water.
I destroy, I devour,
but I also keep us warm.

You erode the most solid rock
slowly, over time,
but you also quench thirst and flow freely.

We complete each other in ways I cannot provide justice to in writing.

But, you complete other people, too.
Some of them are better fits for you then I could ever be,
And I am left perpetually jealous.

I see you with her in the hallway,
laughing, talking,
holding hands.

And, although I know it is selfish, I can’t help but to think,
Stop that!
That’s supposed to be me.

you tell me some stories of your adventures with the girl who is not me.
And I listen,
not because I want to be polite, but because I want every part of you

I want to know what makes you happy,
what makes you tick,
I want it all.

So why can’t I just have it,
it all?

Why can’t I be
your knight in shining armor

Why can’t I be
your prince charming

Why can’t I be your rock,
The one you lean on when you get tired.

But I know darn well why.

It’s because she is.

And I ought to be grateful.

Because she is doing better for you then I ever could.

Just know that I will be
whatever you need me to be.
Because like I said before,

I love you.