He like numbers, I like words.
He's logical but I'm impulsive.
He's reserved, I'm overexcited.
He's quiet while I'm quite talkative.
He likes metal, I like punk.
He likes horror, I like comedy.
He uses one word answers, I write a whole paragraph.
He likes Marvel, I like DC.

I have opinions on everything, he has opinions on nothing.
I joke about everything, he takes it too seriously.
I want to call, he wants to hang up.
I call his name across the hall, while he ignores me.

He was always so much better at not caring; I'd try so hard to be cold, but he always does better without even meaning to.

I love stories, he does not.
I like ice cream, he does not.
I care too much for him, he does not.
I try so hard to be supportive, he does not.
I shower him with compliments, he does not.
I make him feel appreciated, he does not.

I do this all from my heart, as genuine as the sun.

But we are running out of things to say to each other.


I love him.
He does not.