I like him.

I'm not stupid enough to say it in the past tense. I know I still do. I told him because I thought it would help me get over him. I like him even more now, though.

Ironic, huh?

I think about him more than I ever did. He said he wasn't looking to date anyone, which is kind of a bullshit excuse, but at least he tried to spare my feelings, right?

The thing is, a small part of me keeps saying, But what if he said that because he doesn't know how to tell you how much he really does like you? What if he's secretly infatuated with you and he doesn't know how to say it? Most of me isn't stupid enough to believe that, but I've always liked to write stories, and the ones with romance are more fun than the ones with rejection.

I can't stop thinking of the possibilities, of everything that could have, but never will, be. Somehow, by trying to spare my feelings, he made me even more emotionally attached.

Ironic, huh?

The worst part is that, when he rejected me, I saw how thoughtful and caring he was being about it. I felt that I might be able to love him. I'm not stupid enough to think that I'm in love with him now, but, in that moment, it didn't feel that far off. I don't think I've ever been more attracted to him than when he told me he wasn't attracted to me.

Ironic, huh?

He hasn't spoken to me in over a week. We used to talk every day and share glances and inside jokes. Now he avoids me in the hallways and waits to leave class so he won't have to walk out with me. He almost seems more upset by this than I am.

Ironic, huh?

I fucking hate irony.