So, I’ve got a

So, I’ve got a boyfriend and you’ve got a girlfriend.
He loves me like I love you like you say you love her. He’s a very good man and everything anyone could wish for. But the star I’m wishing on is different than everyone else’s. 

Me and you?
We’re friends. I don’t need Jacks’ compass to show me where what I want is because I know where it is, I just can’t have it.
We’re friends. Only because I’ve been too scared to tell you the truth.
We’re friends. Because every girl is waiting eagerly at your doorstep like an army in line for battle. Each with makeup caked on like war paint showing they’ve done this before. But what they don’t realize if you detest war violence. What they don’t know is your favorite color is white because it’s the color of the blank page you wish you had to start over on. That math is your strongest subject. What they don’t know is your mom’s name is Samantha and your dad died in a motorcycle crash when you were ten.
There’s a lot they don’t know. And even more they don’t care about.
But that doesn’t matter. All they see is a bigheaded jock who’s been on varsity since freshman year. All they see if your sexily messy hair and muscles that have more curves than they would ever want. They see your flashy smile and your cool grey eyes, your little dimple on the right side.
They see a 6 foot man who will make all the other soldiers in line on your doorstep jealous. They see a man to seduce and someone to maybe make their baby daddy because you’re guaranteed money right out of high school.

There’s a lot of people out there that just want to use you then abuse you, after they get what they want, they lose you.
I know I shouldn’t be saying this because I have a boyfriend and I’m just your best friend.
I shouldn’t be saying this because these feelings shouldn’t be here.
Because it’s none of my business.
Because my friendship with you is much better than nothing at all but I can’t help it.
I can’t help staring at you while holding is hand.
Can’t help looking while she’s in your arms.
Can’t help wishing it was me.
I can’t help wondering what it’d be like but then again… we’re friends.

Maybe Jacks’ compass can help me after all.
Maybe it can point me in the direction where you’re not because now I’ve attempted to talk myself out of loving you.
We’re just friends.
So maybe I’ll just have to keep wishing on that star that no one else uses in hope that one day I won’t be scared to tell you the truth.


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