Wishes.

It's hard to love someone who doesn't love you back. To look into their eyes, and instantly get lost because of the beautiful colors swimming around. Or when they touch you, you can feel the electricity run through your veins. The way you want to see them every moment, then when you're away from that person you can't but think of everything they do, and miss them every minute of the day.

But when you know they'll never like you back, it pains you. Because then you realize you'll never get a chance. Never get a kiss, an intimate touch. Nothing, it all fades from your mind, and slips through their fingers.

The person I love has been a friend of mine ever since the middle school. I didn't know I was homosexual until I started looking at boys differently than I've ever had, before; his name is Nike. Not his birth name, though. It's actually Nikolai, but he let people call him Nike. So we stuck with that ever since we were young.

He's beautiful, his smile takes my breath away. He has a perfect facial structure, with a slim body to match. Ever since we went into high school, I started getting feelings for him. Differently than just friends. I told myself the emotions would pass soon, but they never did. All through freshman year I daydreamed of us together, holding hands, kissing... some of them were vivid, they felt real.

But when I snapped out of the most amazing dream, I would look around confused, and notice that it'd never happen. We were just friends, well to him. To me, I wanted him more than ever. Not just best friends, but I wanted him to be mine. And only mine.

Nike knew I was gay, he had no problem with it, either. He would always try and set me up with some gorgeous guys, let me admit. But none of them compared to the way I felt towards my best friend.

I went on some dates, yeah. Every date went horribly, though. I would tell them "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling it.", or "Maybe we can just be friends?" But they always took it the wrong way, and got angry. I would forget about them anyway. I felt bad when I told them, but sooner or later I blamed it on them for taking it the wrong way in the first place. I was trying to be nice, I even said it in a polite tone, matter of fact. They didn't care. The guys would swear at me, thinking I'd feel bad, and leave. That's how the dates always went.

Nike was the one I wanted, the one I've always daydreamed about, the one I wished would kiss me. Instead he was just a friend, while my mind was stuck in some fairytale.