I hate how you make me feel.
You make my heart skip a beat when I see you.
Looking through old photos and found one of you — I swear, my heart stopped for a minute.
I hate how I have butterflies in my stomach right now just writing this.
I love how you look at me in the hallway.
And I love how your jacket smells.
And the fact that whenever I go into your class, the whole room says your name and you just blush.
But most of all, I hate the fact that you probably fail to see all those details.
I don’t know of you feel the same way, and truth is I’ll never know. Truth is, I’ve never felt this way about a guy before, and truth is, I hate that we’ll never be together.
I hate not knowing what you think of me when I walk past you.
All the signs point towards the fact that you like me, but I just don’t know anymore.