What you do to me.
It’s strange, intoxicating, maddening.
I love every word and hang on every letter.
Can’t get enough of, what I perceive, is your love.
The attention you give me and the way we speak is that of lovers.
That notion, however, is nothing but pure fantasy.
We are nothing but good friends.
Nothing more, nothing less.
The things we have in common are to strengthen our bond, but not to move it forward in any way.
You set me free and hold me captive in ways you will never know.
I hate you because it hurts.
I love you because it’s beyond my control.
