Anxiety kills.

I like you way more then i should. maybe i just wanna hold your hand, or kiss you, or maybe i just need to fuck you. either way, it's there and i know you probably see it, and know it, and don't really care for it, but i can't make it turn off. this thing that i have for you. i don't even know if i can call it a thing because we're not even an us. there is a only a me and a you and everyone else in the room. and i hate that when i sit next to you there is this wall, we can't see the wall, but yeah, it's there. and that wall makes it hard for me to move towards you, or talk to you, or even look at you. i mean, i look at people, i'm good at looking at people, right in their eyes, and this wall has made me a person who doesn't look at you. i don't even know anymore. it's so easy for me to flirt with people i don't like, i'm so god damn stubborn. maybe that's my problem, maybe i'm just a god damn slut who flirts with everybody else except you and i'm sending you these mixed signals or some shit. and i don't know if you're just shy or just not even interested or really don't care either way, but i just wish you'd make that move, or like, something. and i wish that my best friend never told you i liked you because then it would probably be a lot easier to move into this, i felt like our cars collided when she told you. or maybe that's it, you're just interested in my best friend. that's probably it. fuck. i need a drink. and i need to get my mind right.