You're so beautiful that I can't speak. I can't say to you
the things I want to say because, at this stage of the game, it'd sound too
strange and you'd think I'm a freak and so I shut up and make friends, like
a good boy. All the while, my best friend is saying the things I wish he
wouldn't say and you're listening and you're liking it and I'm beginning to
hate him and you and, especially, me.
My attraction is clear and obvious. I mean, really, how many people do you
ask out to the museum? How many people listen to your problems when they barely
know you, not because they feel trapped into listening, but because they care?
I'll tell you: as many people that are attracted to you, that's how many.
Attraction can take many different forms and have many different outcomes, but
friendships and relationships (not necessarily romantic ones, either) are
all borne out of an attraction to another person.
I'm attracted to you and you know it and so does my best friend. And you
have no reservation about admitting that I'm the kind of guy you're looking
for and my best friend is the kind of guy who needs to spend some time in a
mental institution, but that doesn't matter- you're attracted to him anyway,
knowing that he's everything that's wrong for you. Twice your age and three
times as angst. You sputter out how impossibly collected and together
I am and how much you want that for yourself, but you ignore me and go for insanity
in tennis shoes.
And, still, you're so beautiful, even though you're making the biggest mistake
you possibly could at this time in your life, that I won't say a word. Perhaps
that's my own, silent revenge for being so carelessly ignored by beauty. I see the train
wreck that you're about to become and you've brought it upon yourself. What's
worse is that you're so beautifully intelligent that you see
the wreck coming, too, and still you charge forward, as if proudly screaming,
"I like it when things go kablooie!"
Will I offer aid and assistance, when it's all said and done, while he's
running through your life like a raging bull? No. No, I'm just going to sit
back and say, "What? Now you pay attention to me? No. You
wanted him, you deal with him. You had your chance to pick my brain. Good luck and watch your heart."
He's going to hurt himself more than he'll ever hurt you, but don't worry.
You'll end up hurting yourself just as much because life isn't living unless you've got pain, right? Feel the burn, baby.
Feel the burn.