Being "in like" is... like wondering where the hell you are in life. You just don't know.
There are so many questions to be answered, but you realize that none of them matter as long as you get that one hug, that one skin contact you crave since the last.
You toss between whether you actually like this person. You wonder if you like them or the idea of them.
But then it doesn't matter because you start to think that maybe you've been seeing what you want to see, and that it all doesn't matter anyway because you don't even know how he feels and you start to look at yourself and whether you're even good enough, and then all of those looks that you thought meant he liked you now looks like a friendship stare and you're not that pretty and you don't fit into his category of perfection and you space yourself away and then it gets awkward and it can come to a point of never knowing and you're forever in this awkward friendship phase that could have all been avoided had you just said something.
I've known him for a little over a month. I've been happy. I've been hopeful. I've been grossly girly in like.
I could talk all day about effects and thoughts and interpretations.
But all I can really do is be myself. My happy, hopeful, grossly girly "in like" self.
I've been in the cuddliest mood since who knows when, and I can't even satisfy myself with the one I'd want to.
The sick thing is, all of this could be solved with words. For a creative professional writer, that should be easy as pie, right?
Ha. You're funny.
Random Fact: The "save" icon on Microsoft Word shows a floppy disk, with the shutter on backwards.