I couldn’t sleep last night. I just laid there on the bed, restless, listening to Television. The band, not actual television. Then Sigur Rós. Then the Fiery Furnaces. All because I couldn’t get you out of my head.
I’ve never made any secret of the fact that I’m riddled with self-doubt. Thus, it should come as no surprise that last night was full of the usual self-doubting thoughts…
“I bet she doesn’t even notice me…”
“And even if she did, she could never like someone like me. I’m just not her type…”
“Maybe if I weren’t such a bastard, maybe then she’d notice me…”
All of the reasons why I like you were flowing through my head, swiftly followed by all the reasons I’m just not worth it. It’s like I’m deliberately keeping myself away from you. But I’m not, really. The truth is that I’m really not your type. The truth is that I am a bastard. The truth is that you really don’t notice me.
And that’s okay. That’s why I keep these ridiculous thoughts to myself most nights. You don’t need to know that I’m thinking about you. You don’t need to know that I like you. It’s better for our relationship that you never know. I don’t want you to feel awkward towards me. I just want to be there, from time to time, hiding in the corners of your mind. And I don’t want that to be weird for you.