I think you like me.
But I'm not sure . . . it's only a guess.
Why are you so confusing?
"Who do you like?" I ask.
"No one," you said.
But whenever I say something,
Or even want something,
You're always the first to jump at the opportunity.
You'd hold my hand and hug me whenever I want,
But then barely make eye contact and whisper a word to me.
What's that supposed to mean?
Sometimes I think of what it would be like it we were together . . .
I can picture it.
You and me wouldn't be so hard to see.
"I think you're pretty," you told me quickly,
You think so?
I feel more confident.
"I think you're pretty cute," I said.
So . . . do you like me?
It's really hard to come out and ask you that.
It must be hard to come out and admit it if you do,
But if I will you?