December boy. We hung out again last night (cursed mutual friends!). It felt very flirtatious. He kept touching me. A lot of unnecessarily long leg pats for emphasis. But. I'm not saying I didn't like it.
He said something about us being friends, and I jokingly said, "We can never be friends!" I was going to follow up with something absolutely ridiculous, like how we'd never be friends because we can't agree on who loves The Cure more. Before I could get there though, he said, "Really? You're gonna do that?" And then I laughed and told him I was joking (but joking in an honest way, really. I don't want to be friends with him. Or sure, friends. Kissing friends.). I explained The Cure bit I was going to put out there. The conversation proceeded, and I said, "But really. We can never be real friends who sit in the same room alone together." And then he brought up the word "tension" and I told him I would never trust myself to be trapped in a room with him. And then of course he went on to say, "I think you're cute. And interesting." And this is the problem. We both know it. Cute. Interesting.
And off limits.
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