Always “the buddy,” never the girlfriend, how the heck will I ever be a wife? Will I ever be a wife? As my heart caves and tears form, I lose myself for a moment, caught between desire and emotions. I am horrible at reading between the lines, perceiving truths, and believing there is more where there is none. I am a woman on the outside, often confident, but feel like a girl on the inside, hopeful. A girl who feels crushed each time unknown infinite friendships turn into unspoken realities.
Though, your words tug at my heartstrings, I will remain your forever cheerleader; supportive, loving, caring, and encouraging. I am your soundboard, the one who will tell you the truth, helping you to transform into the man you need to be. I am your well worn jeans, the ones you want to wear everyday and can be yourself in. Yet, no matter how much I try to get your attention, how much I will keep trying to get your attention, even after you string me along infinitely with all my hopefuls, you simply don’t see me more than just “the buddy.”