I love you.

Whenever we're together, that's all I can think about. My mind disengages and I have to talk, to babble, to cover up.

The first time I saw you, I knew... I knew that I'd never be the same, that my heart would never belong to me again. I also knew, with utter certainty, that I had no chance with you. This knowledge did nothing to stop my heart from going over to the enemy.

You are... utter perfection. You're the only man capable of making me forget

I sometimes think that I can't stand this any longer. Watching you, watching him, watching you both, so utterly aware of each other. So perfect, you two are. Even across the room from each other, the space between you sizzles, sparkles.

And I know I'll never have a chance.

I wish you weren't gay. That's funny, I know, but I do. If you were straight, well, you'd be so much further out of my reach... And that, I think, would make it easier to bear. This unrequited love stuff is hard enough without having to know that you regularly fuck one of my band mates. And, worse, that you two love each other.

So I have to sit and watch you two, so totally a couple, so in love. And I have to act like it doesn't bother me. Like it doesn't hurt when I see you both kiss. Like I don't want to scream with anguish and pent-up longing when you hold hands, or the million other touchy things you two do. I see all this and still I love you with all my heart.

And I can't say anything.

I love you. I hate you. I never want to be apart from you. I never want to see you again. You scare me. You excite me.

I love you.

I just wish you fucking knew it.

Boy, this takes me back...

This is copywritten to me.