If you’ve ever loved somebody put your hands up.

 

Yayyyyyyy I’m posting again.

Lord, I feel the need to type so much in my convos/write blogposts because I can’t speak. Stewpid.

Anyways, sigh. I realized you’re kinda like my safety net. Maybe I really think of you as a best friend, hmm. I mean, I guess I don’t tell you a lot of the things I feel; and I rarely talk to you when I have bad days because I really just don’t like sharing my crap with other people, but I just feel like I love you – platonically.

You’re kinda screwed up in your own way, and sometimes you make me so mad. You’re stubborn, and you fail at reading between the lines, but somehow that just makes you, you. And I’m okay with all that. I’m okay with getting so mad at you; I’m okay with you and all the problems you have, I’m okay with you. I accepted the fact that you’re one of the weirdest people I know ages ago, so I’ve come to terms with all of you, the good parts and the not-so-pretty ones.

I like to think that you feel the same way about me – as in the accepting part, because I know sometimes I can be a real train-wreck, and I know very well that I’ve hurt you before. But I’m working on that. I swear I’ll never do something that stupid again, because you just mean a lot to me. And I guess that’s why I keep so many things from you; it just makes us work.

It’s a shame I’ll never admit it to you; you’d tease me endlessly about it.

 

 

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