To the boy with the bad eyebrows,
you were everything I wasn't allowed.
But I didn't like you,
I liked the feeling of liking you.

To the boy who Bollywood dances so well,
We would be so stereotypical,
Indian with Indian,
yet somehow we never came upon eachother.
We should be friends.

To the boy who salutes,
you were the first real one,
and I don’t know if I wanted it,
but it was unexpected.
It just wasn't meant to happen,
but I don't want you to ever leave.
There will always be something here,
I'll always draw to you.

To the boy who made me famous as his rival,
we would be so perfect together.
I've never liked someone as much as you.
Take a jump with me,
I'm sure we would make it beautiful.

To the Venezuelan boy who gave good hugs,
summer flings can't get any better.
We both knew that wouldn't last,
but it was good while it did.

To the boy who's the lion to my inner tiger,
We're almost the same,
and this could've worked,
but I pushed myself into it half-heartedly;
this is for her, not for me.
It just wasn't right.