I can’t be in love with you.
But am I?
I enjoy your company, and I look forward to the next time we get to talk. You make me laugh and smile, and you understand me like no one else does. You listen to my problems and though you don’t offer me any good advice, you genuinely seem interested in talking things out with me. Things aren’t just one sided this time — you’ve explicitly told me that you like me. I wish I had enough courage to have confirmed your suspicions that I like you too. But I’m a pussy. Got burned too many times, and you said so yourself you might disappear on me.
But at least you were honest.
And if I’m honest right now, none of the other guys I dated/had a thing with even compares to a fraction of what I feel for you. And that’s what scares the shit out of me.