Life story of the fearful. Too afraid to be rejected. Too scared to know the truth! 😦
I’m pretending that I don’t like you like that, and I bet you don’t even know. Why would you? I’ve put a lot of effort into this charade, and I’m pulling it off with such ease I’ve almost even convinced myself that I don’t like you like that. Sort of like that creepy thing people do when they’re sad and just smile anyway; eventually the smile becomes real, and the forced weirdness just fades away.
So listen, instead of telling you I like you like that, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell you about some other guy I think is hot or who I’ve slept with recently. Maybe I want you to get jealous, but mostly I just want you to get the impression that I don’t like you like that. I’ll probably hit you in the arm when you say something funny, or brush…
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