Unsent Messages

you're my best friend. you don't see me that way which hurts, but it's okay. you see me as an outlet. you can call me when you're upset and we'll sit in silence. or we'll talk, in the rare event that you want to. you're very private. you can tell me about what happened back in high school, or when you were 10. i understand you but above all else i validate you. i remind you that although you've burned a million people and they've burned you, there's still someone who cares. someone who dares to feel something. someone who tries to trust you. and so i took a trip to see you and we had sex in that family bathroom. i didn't want it to happen like that. kissing because you wanted me. you hands on my chest, my fingertips digging into your hips. i wanted to tell you how much you meant to me and i wanted you to say it back. i didn't want to argue or feel like an option or to have to try to convince myself that there's still something left. because what if there's not? your silence means something and you know it. i think you know that i know. so please, matt. if you love me, come clean. i think i've earned honesty by now.