“I’m sorry— You’re still saying that we’re just casual? That we aren’t together?” I ask you, practically seething with anger. I had to drag you away from your friends as soon as you told them that we’re just ‘friends’ I’d understand if I didn’t meet your parents for dinner and fuck in the disabled bathroom while they were still at the table waiting for us. True story.

At first, I knew you were just there for the lust. I was too, honestly. I didn’t think I’d catch feelings the way I have now. I kinda hate myself for letting this go on for so long without trying to address things. You called me baby and made sure that I wouldn’t get attached, little too late for that now.

I still picture us in a years time, I shouldn’t, but I do. I imagine that we could maybe have an apartment together, I’d buy you a black cat, I know you love those. Maybe you’d finally show me off to your friends, finally tell them that we aren’t whatever you think we are. Significant word, maybe.

I wish that I could just hold my tongue and give you a little more space, but it’s gotten to the point that I had to say something. This isn’t casual anymore and you need to just face it.