I can’t understand it.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I’m desperate to be close to you. I want to touch you. I want to feel you against me. It doesn’t even have to be sexual. I just crave your company. I like to be around you. It fills me with this…sensation that- even as I don’t understand it- makes my adoration for you all the more so.

But then why didn’t we

Your laugh makes me feel like laughing. Whenever I see you smile, I feel compelled to smile along with you. I’m not insanely jealous of anyone who touches you, and I’m not angry at your exes, but there’s a certain satisfaction that having contact with you gives me such a great feeling. I’m content in your presence.

Ever since you broke up with your last boyfriend, I’ve struggled with telling you my feelings. The others think I should have told you a long time ago. You know of my sexuality, know that I’m that way inclined. In fact, I’ve been turned into the token homosexual of our group of friends.

You just don’t know how I feel about you.

You don’t know that- for some insane reason- I feel happier the second I see your face. You don’t know that the slightest amount of contact makes my skin tingle for hours afterwards. You don’t know how many times I tell myself off every day for having these inappropriate thoughts about you.

I sound like a sap from a cheesy film. But I guess all of that crap had to come from somewhere…

But then surely

And, then, last night, it took a new turn for me. For you. For both of us.

I’m not sure it’s a good

Damn it.

How do I write this?

You were there. At the party. Where we were.

Right?

You remember that we were both a little tipsy. Not full blown drunk. Oh, no. You can’t say that you don’t remember because I know that you were still lucid.

Right?

I’ll tell you what I remember:

I remember laughing with you. I remember drifting closer to you. I remember my lips meeting yours.

And…something was wrong.

I can’t deny it any longer. Our lips… They didn’t fit together. It was like we were the wrong two pieces of the jigsaw and- no matter what- we weren’t going to fit together. It was uncomfortable, it was awkward.

It was far from the perfect kiss I had envisioned.

Were my expectations too high? Had I been hoping too hard for a state of perfection that I was never going to achieve?

But I’m not naïve. It wasn’t my first kiss. I know what to expect from them. But…whenever I’ve kissed anyone else, whether I’ve fancied them or not, it’s worked.

So why is it only with you that I’m suddenly transformed into such an awful kisser?

With the others, all the others, I’ve managed to find some kind of rhythm. We’ve managed to gel together, even if it takes a moment to synchronise and get into the rhythm of it.

Not even after a moment did it feel right with you.

And I’m so confused. I don’t understand this- at all. Even though the kiss was such a dismal failure, I still find myself to be incredibly attracted to you. I still want to touch you; to be close to you.

I’m just so disappointed that

If only we had

But that kiss!

Surely the kiss ought to have been amazing, incredible, fantastic, uplifting, brilliant, dreamlike… All those things! It should have been the best kiss of my life.

But it wasn’t.

It was like we were kissing to a different beat, a different drum, a different…rhythm.

Why the hell doesn’t it fit?

Why didn’t fireworks go off behind us? I was finally getting what I’ve wanted for years, and it should feel amazing. But something doesn’t feel right.

So I’m sinking back into the background. I’m letting you believe that I feel nothing for you. I’m letting you believe that it was just a drunken kiss, an act of friendship taken that step too far. You’ll never know how I really feel about you.

Yes, I’m attracted to you.

Yes, my personal feelings for you grow stronger with each passing day.

Yes, I care for you as a friend.

But something tells me we wouldn’t work as a couple.

I can’t explain it.

The rhythm’s just wrong.