People like me...
Well, we make the world stop.
And you probably thought that I hated you.
Avoiding every question you threw.
Acting like eye-contact was torture.
Like a sentence spoken to you might kill me.
Diving away when I saw you approaching.
Pretending like I couldn't care less about how you were feeling.
Always sighing before replying, "I'm good. How are you?" like it was a chore.
I still remember that time that someone told me you were talking to me. And you said, so very certain, "She knows; she's ignoring me." Well, you got me.
And yet you still tried to break this unbreakable shell.
Persistent like a thorn in my side.
A thorn that I don't necessarily want to be rid of. Though the last thorn was very quick to leave me alone.
I even remember when you asked with a smile, "Do I annoy you? It's okay if I do." You sounded convinced that this was the truth.
And I'm sure you've rarely found someone whose heart you couldn't squirm your way into.
So I must have been an odd exception.
Everyone else yelled your name with excitement when you arrived.
While I grumbled it incoherently.
I'm sure you've never felt someone so bitter towards you. Because no one could possibly hate you.
And when you asked if I was annoyed by you, I smiled without a word and walked away.
Though the answer was, "No. I'm never annoyed by you." I'm sure it seemed as though it was, "Yes! Leave me alone already!"
And this is why you probably thought that I hated you.
And I wouldn't blame you for thinking such.
But I honestly loved every damn word you said.
Every hello Every goodbye Every "How are you?" Every "I'm doing alright."
But you have to understand.
I can't let myself get attached to someone so vibrant when I'm so dull.
You shouldn't have been so nice; it only made it hurt when you were gone, off to who-knows-where, probably bringing smiles to other people's faces.
So I told my family that I hated you. That I loved mornings because you weren't there.
But I hated mornings because you weren't there.
I complained about every second I was forced to spend with you.
I hoped I could convince myself and others awhile that I don't enjoy your company or your smile.
Because people like you make the world go 'round.
And people like me...
Well, we can't possibly live up to people like you.
You may think this is a confession of love. But it's simply a confession.
That I don't hate you even though you probably think that I do.
And I wish I could give you this note and brighten up your day with a compliment of my own.
But I simply can't. Because I'm not you.
So, what I'm trying to say is that I don't hate you.
Even though you definitely think that I do.