(Not) By Your Side
1/1.
Patrick Daniel Swift. Just the name makes me smile. It's just so him. In the way it sounds, the way it doesn't quite fit but you still have to love it. In the same way, he doesn't quite fit, but I'm still in love with him. Totally and completely smitten. It's a problem, really.
So he doesn't quite fit, yeah, but he is still absolutely fantastic. Amazing. Nearly perfect, I might say. Attractive, hilarious, intelligent, totally interesting, a hundred times better than anyone else. He's pretty much my best friend.
I should probably add that this isn't one of those stories. The type where the person is hopelessly in love with their best friend and will it work out?
Nah, I'm hopelessly in love with him and he's my best friend. But it's not like that. He knows how I feel. He says he likes me, too. He says a lot of things.
Anyway, I would love to say that I'm dating this wonderful man, but I'm not. He's older, about six years older. And though he was once upon a time okay with dating someone my age, he has since realized how foolish and slightly illegal that would be. Especially when he has a child to think of. We chose to wait the nine months until my eighteenth birthday to do anything, even to kiss again. He promised a birthday kiss, or more if I'd like. That seems plausible. He also said he'd like to date me once I turn eighteen. I don't believe that will happen. I highly doubt it. But still, I keep my hopes up. Why I do, I am not sure.
I realize that I'm young, but honestly, I know that I am in love with him. And I get that he may be too old, but I'm very mature for my age and we understand each other. I dislike the whole teenage angst thing. That "no one understands me" silliness. But there are days when he's the only one that speaks to me, because everyone else forgets that I exist. I struggle with depression, anxiety, and a whole mess of other, unnamed issues. I can talk to him about it. He doesn't judge me and he knows how I feel. He is the only one that can calm me down when I get bad. And he doesn't mind that I freak out and panic and yell at him all the time. That is why I say only Patrick understands me.
He laughs at my cheesey pick up lines and nerdy jokes. He calls me when I ask even though he hates phone calls. He doesn't mind my company when everything is getting to me and I just need him. He doesn't even care that I'm still shy in person, even though we've met so many times. Or that when I ask him to call I don't actually say much. He still talks with me even though he understands everything and the world just doesn't make much sense to me. He doesn't complain when I get confused, and he doesn't get angry when I complain.
We both have feelings for each other, and we have for a couple of years. There was a time when he wasn't quite so worried about me being so young. We would talk, kiss, say "I love you." But we were never official. That time ended when I kissed someone else. I assumed that because he had the freedom to do that, I did as well. I was wrong.
So now he and I are talking again. You know, talking. We both can not wait until I turn eighteen and we can kiss. He says he'd like to date me then, too. But we won't date. We'll flirt, kiss, hang out but not go on dates. We won't date. We never will. Patrick Swift and I will never be exclusive, no matter how many times I wish on 11:11 that we will. No matter how high I let my hopes fly up, he and I will never be together. Not officially, at least. I know that, but the fact slips my mind whenever he talks to me. When he talks to me, he is all that is on my mind. All I can think about. And I love him.
It is so cliche to say that when we're together, the world seems to stop and it's just the two of us, frozen in time. Another cliche is that when we kiss, fireworks start. Want more? I could stare into his eyes forever. And he completes me. I've always hated cliches, just so that you know. They're so silly. But when it comes to him, all the cliches are so true. It really isn't fair, if you ask me. He gets to make all of the cliches true for me, yet he doesn't want to date me. I just don't like that.
He just makes me feel like I have something wrong with me. He says he is into me, yet he doesn't want to be with me. I don't get it. I mean, I understand that not everyone will be dying to date me. Yes, I totally get that. But it just seems like he likes me! I don't know. Sometimes I want to give up, but he has this way of pulling me back in. I just can't get away. And I don't know that I really want to get away from him. I mean, I would love to be closer. I would love to be his girlfriend. But alas, that will never happen, it seems. I appear to be stuck in this strange state of somethingness.
He has me wrapped around his finger. I can't move on because he doesn't want me to date another person. He doesn't want me to be with anyone else, but he doesn't want me to be with him either. He confuses me. He depresses me. He makes me so completely angry. Yet, for some silly reason, I seem to have fallen in love with him.
So he doesn't quite fit, yeah, but he is still absolutely fantastic. Amazing. Nearly perfect, I might say. Attractive, hilarious, intelligent, totally interesting, a hundred times better than anyone else. He's pretty much my best friend.
I should probably add that this isn't one of those stories. The type where the person is hopelessly in love with their best friend and will it work out?
Nah, I'm hopelessly in love with him and he's my best friend. But it's not like that. He knows how I feel. He says he likes me, too. He says a lot of things.
Anyway, I would love to say that I'm dating this wonderful man, but I'm not. He's older, about six years older. And though he was once upon a time okay with dating someone my age, he has since realized how foolish and slightly illegal that would be. Especially when he has a child to think of. We chose to wait the nine months until my eighteenth birthday to do anything, even to kiss again. He promised a birthday kiss, or more if I'd like. That seems plausible. He also said he'd like to date me once I turn eighteen. I don't believe that will happen. I highly doubt it. But still, I keep my hopes up. Why I do, I am not sure.
I realize that I'm young, but honestly, I know that I am in love with him. And I get that he may be too old, but I'm very mature for my age and we understand each other. I dislike the whole teenage angst thing. That "no one understands me" silliness. But there are days when he's the only one that speaks to me, because everyone else forgets that I exist. I struggle with depression, anxiety, and a whole mess of other, unnamed issues. I can talk to him about it. He doesn't judge me and he knows how I feel. He is the only one that can calm me down when I get bad. And he doesn't mind that I freak out and panic and yell at him all the time. That is why I say only Patrick understands me.
He laughs at my cheesey pick up lines and nerdy jokes. He calls me when I ask even though he hates phone calls. He doesn't mind my company when everything is getting to me and I just need him. He doesn't even care that I'm still shy in person, even though we've met so many times. Or that when I ask him to call I don't actually say much. He still talks with me even though he understands everything and the world just doesn't make much sense to me. He doesn't complain when I get confused, and he doesn't get angry when I complain.
We both have feelings for each other, and we have for a couple of years. There was a time when he wasn't quite so worried about me being so young. We would talk, kiss, say "I love you." But we were never official. That time ended when I kissed someone else. I assumed that because he had the freedom to do that, I did as well. I was wrong.
So now he and I are talking again. You know, talking. We both can not wait until I turn eighteen and we can kiss. He says he'd like to date me then, too. But we won't date. We'll flirt, kiss, hang out but not go on dates. We won't date. We never will. Patrick Swift and I will never be exclusive, no matter how many times I wish on 11:11 that we will. No matter how high I let my hopes fly up, he and I will never be together. Not officially, at least. I know that, but the fact slips my mind whenever he talks to me. When he talks to me, he is all that is on my mind. All I can think about. And I love him.
It is so cliche to say that when we're together, the world seems to stop and it's just the two of us, frozen in time. Another cliche is that when we kiss, fireworks start. Want more? I could stare into his eyes forever. And he completes me. I've always hated cliches, just so that you know. They're so silly. But when it comes to him, all the cliches are so true. It really isn't fair, if you ask me. He gets to make all of the cliches true for me, yet he doesn't want to date me. I just don't like that.
He just makes me feel like I have something wrong with me. He says he is into me, yet he doesn't want to be with me. I don't get it. I mean, I understand that not everyone will be dying to date me. Yes, I totally get that. But it just seems like he likes me! I don't know. Sometimes I want to give up, but he has this way of pulling me back in. I just can't get away. And I don't know that I really want to get away from him. I mean, I would love to be closer. I would love to be his girlfriend. But alas, that will never happen, it seems. I appear to be stuck in this strange state of somethingness.
He has me wrapped around his finger. I can't move on because he doesn't want me to date another person. He doesn't want me to be with anyone else, but he doesn't want me to be with him either. He confuses me. He depresses me. He makes me so completely angry. Yet, for some silly reason, I seem to have fallen in love with him.
♠ ♠ ♠
Editing tomorrow.