So, I got bored and wrote dis. Loosely based on my own relationships. I have no title. It started with those mornings we spent alone; I used to cherish them. I would watch the clock, dreading the moment when everyone would arrive and take away the only thing I looked forward to. It was a tender kinship we shared, not quite friends yet you were one of my favourite people. I told you all of my secrets, the sad ones and the happy ones, too. Things that were too precious to say out loud but I wanted you to know. You were genuine. In spite of this, I didn't realize the feeling was mutual. You're kind to everyone and I'm nothing special. It wasn't until our first argument when you resentfully told me 'I thought we had something, I guess I was wrong' that I felt ashamed and remembered that presuming no one cares is a form of selfishness, too. Stubborn, I kept my silence. You were persistent, though. The next day you brought me socks, pink with cats all over them. 'An early Christmas gift' you said. I felt guilty for my behaviour but I still made you wait until the end of the day before I wrapped you in a hug and said that I would miss you over the break. I spent Christmas wondering if you were okay; We'd had plans to spend the day together since you didn't want to be alone. I was still too scared to say anything so that fell through. The next day I saw you was New Years. You shared an apple fritter with me and asked me to go drinking. I spent over an hour getting ready, I needed you to think I was pretty. It paid off months later when we reminisced and you told me that first time I stepped in your doorway I took your breath away. That night you gave me absinthe and modelled outfits for me. It was the first time I had an excuse to just stare at you and I loved it. You bought me drinks at the tequila bar and then took me to a house party. I remember feeling a little jealous when I saw you flirting with that girl but we were friends so I encouraged it. I was gleeful the next week when you casually mentioned that it didn't work out. The next time I received your company was weeks later. That leech called me to cry. Another thing was wrong and she needed me. All of my attention and sanity and love, she needed it. So I let her drain me and when she was done, like magic, you called. While we spoke, almost effortlessly, I returned to myself as if the leech had never existed. Days later, I bought tequila because it reminded me of you. I didn't like it; tequila's gross. So, I offered you the bottle and you said we'd make margaritas. Those margaritas were strong; I blacked out. The next thing I remembered was waking up in your bed. I was scared but I trusted you. I kissed you full on the lips, after which you informed me that it was our second kiss since that night. Nothing else had happened. The next day, I was nervous. I'd pushed our friendship over the edge which I wasn't sure if I wanted. Feelings are precarious and I can't stand the uncertainty. I tried my best to live in the moment, though. I let you call me sweetheart and we went on dates. I fell asleep at your place most nights. We would talk all night and then you would set an alarm so you had time to cuddle me in the morning. You taught me how to properly use cutlery and I let you wear my lip balm when the weather got dry. The first time we had sex, I accidentally told you I loved you. You politely ignored me. We watched disney movies and went on a quest for the perfect risotto. We never found it. We went grocery shopping together and on picnics. I did your makeup and we made a secret handshake. You showed me an abstract take on Cinderella and you said that it reminded you of us. You said I was your Cinderella; it was fortuitous that we met. That was the word you used: fortuitous. You said that you felt something as soon as you met me. I never told you but I felt it, too. I hadn't felt comfortable with it, I'm careful with my feelings. Like a child, that first month of meeting was spent teasing and mocking you. It hurt to repress my feelings, though, and I was relieved when we became friends. My insomnia went away when I slept next to you and I remembered how to smile. I also remembered how to cry. It was fine, though, I didn't miss that numb, empty feeling. You were always very sweet, even when I couldn't control my temper. You lent me your sweaters and I shared my fruit with you. You didn't like when I gave you fruit very much; I had to pressure you to eat it, referencing your health, but you were hurt when I stopped. You used to have difficulty keeping your hands off of me; I loved all of the stolen kisses we shared when no one was looking. The first time we got in a fight as a couple, you sat outside of my apartment for half an hour in the rain, waiting on me. I stayed inside my head and convinced myself you didn't care, your feelings were waning. You called it a self-fulfilling prophecy that last time we spoke. I still look back and remember all the times you walked me home in the snow when your car broke down. We would sit on your couch while I played your therapist. We made forts and had a pillow fight and you told me I was beautiful. I wanted to believe you were my soulmate. I don't believe in soulmates, though. My brain's daily ritual was creating reasons for why I wasn't good enough for you. You were the person I wanted to be near always. So, I overthought until I broke my own heart and that is how I sabotaged a perfectly good relationship.