she was heartache from the moment that you met her (moved from livejournal)

it's funny because i write paragraphs and paragraphs in the descriptions of my spotify playlists and i delete them and i write them over again so that they can be still real and also less-than-or-equal-to 300 characters. i have to make sure they're just cryptic enough so that you don't know that i think about you when i make them.

it's funny, because usually when i feel this way about somebody i let slip just the right amount of evidence so that they might be comfortable giving me signals to make a move or maybe ignore my subtle advances and pretend they don't notice them so i can know to back off or something. but i can't do that at all with you. there is nothing good that could ever come of you knowing.

see, the thing is- i know that you could love me and that maybe you even do. and i have this deep fondness of you that i prefer not to think about, but you're a good friend of mine.

and it's not even that i'm afraid i'll lose you, really. because, unfortunately, i'm the kind of person that keeps people around. i just... i can't have your perception of me change.

when i told you who i was, you believed me. and when we first met and i accidentally told you something i wasn't proud of, you told me a secret, too. you never said i had to keep it, but i do anyway. i keep it tucked inside my ribcage, right next to my heart, as a reminder that somebody, somewhere, at some point in time, trusted me to not tell anybody.