Honestly, I don’t love you. Not at all.  But I like you. I like the way you’ll turn to wisper something to me and suddenly your so close. So close it takes me aback for a moment. I like the way that you’ll say something sarcastic and you tilt your head down and look at me with those brown puppy dog eyes. If the comment was sexual a eyebrow raise will fallow. I like how your honest, how you’ll yell at me if I’m being stupid or going to hurt someone. I like how you take charge. I like how you’ll go into philosophical-esque mode and make me think. I like how when I need a boost you send a inspiring text to make me want to work for a goal. I like how you inspire me. I like how you walk, with your ripped-bottom jeans and slight slouch. I like how you laugh, it’s loud and sudden out of nowhere and it suprises me. I like how you will suddenly sing. Not fake either. But with warm tone and it’s low and deep and makes me want to cuddle up to it. Everytime. I like how you are amusing. How you can command attention in a crowd and make everyone watch you and laugh and smile. There are probably hundreds of small little things that I like about you. But I know I don’t love you. Honestly.