I’m not sure why I like you. I mean I have no clue. Because quite frankly, I’m way out of your league, and I know it. It’s obvious that I can admit, and maybe you can too. But for some reason, I’m the one chasing you, instead of being the prize. And I guess it’s fun, the chase. It’s my reason to go to school. But am I yours? Or am I just that annoying girl who’s always texting you? Do you not want to ghost me, just because you feel bad? I know the answer to that even less than the original question. Because in a way, I do know why I like you. It’s not because you’re different from the other guys. You’re just the same. And you’re a 5/10 on a good day. So maybe a bit below average. But you’re you. And I’m me. The me that feels like she has a rope tied around her neck, the end of it at your ankle. One of us will die by the end of it, and one of us won’t. But another way to see it is invisible string theory. A single thread of gold has been laced around us since, maybe forever, but we only found out, I mean, I only found out last year, when I met you. You’re funny and kind, and you match my energy. You don’t have a fragile masculinity, and you remember the little things, because you are an observer. And you love cats. Now, I know these are all qualities I could find within every other guy, but it seems different with you. So I guess that’s why I like you. No matter how basic and flawed you are, no matter the fact that ever since the age of 13 your clothes reek of cigarettes. You have really good style, by the way. You dress nicely. I like that about you. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive senior year, with you in Cegep, and me still in high school. I miss you already, even though you aren’t my boyfriend. Not yet.
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 11:13 AM UTC
I’m not sure why I like you. I mean I have no clue. Because quite frankly, I’m way out of your league, and I know it. It’s obvious that I can admit, and maybe you can too. But for some reason, I’m the one chasing you, instead of being the prize. And I guess it’s fun, the chase. It’s my reason to go to school. But am I yours? Or am I just that annoying girl who’s always texting you? Do you not want to ghost me, just because you feel bad? I know the answer to that even less than the original question. Because in a way, I do know why I like you. It’s not because you’re different from the other guys. You’re just the same. And you’re a 5/10 on a good day. So maybe a bit below average. But you’re you. And I’m me. The me that feels like she has a rope tied around her neck, the end of it at your ankle. One of us will die by the end of it, and one of us won’t. But another way to see it is invisible string theory. A single thread of gold has been laced around us since, maybe forever, but we only found out, I mean, I only found out last year, when I met you. You’re funny and kind, and you match my energy. You don’t have a fragile masculinity, and you remember the little things, because you are an observer. And you love cats. Now, I know these are all qualities I could find within every other guy, but it seems different with you. So I guess that’s why I like you. No matter how basic and flawed you are, no matter the fact that ever since the age of 13 your clothes reek of cigarettes. You have really good style, by the way. You dress nicely. I like that about you. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive senior year, with you in Cegep, and me still in high school. I miss you already, even though you aren’t my boyfriend. Not yet.
Hope you won't relate, but at this point it's a rite of passage
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