Dear More Than A Friend,

I'm sorry, I can't meet you tomorrow for a drink, or day after, for a movie, or this weekend for a game of laser-tag.
(No. Don't you dare offer to pick me up)
I just can't afford to have you as another habit that's on the verge of addiction. Dangerously.

I don't know whether you do it intentionally or your head just happen to hit my shoulder every time you laugh.
And why does your arm have to go over my shoulder after every silly joke you crack on me.
That is still fine, until you hold my hand while crossing the road.
Seriously? What's that about?
How does it matter to you if I get hit by a truck?
How does it matter if I don't come with you to that stupid party where you check out stupid girls ?
I fucking don't give a damn about how hot she looks in that red dress.
I am wearing a red dress. But you don't see it.

Why would you? I'm your best friend after all.

You share your coffee with me, and the bill as well.
You bring me ice cream, when I'm sick.
FYI I got sick because you didn't offer me your jacket last night. You just made fun of the sound I made as I sneezed non-stop.

You got drunk that night and as you put half of your weight on my petite frame, you blabbered about how 'nice' I am.
You told me how beautiful I looked in that red dress.
And there they came again- the stupid butterflies.
You also mentioned a thing or two about that dumb ex- girlfriend of yours, effectively shooing away the butterflies.

You paused. I thought you were going to puke on me.
Instead you looked right into my eyes and spoke -"You deserve better..."

And like a thousand times before, I looked at you and smiled,
thinking I've got the best.
The best...friend.