Poems.

About you.

If you read this collection of poems, or pieces, whatever you want to call them,
you might not pick up that they're mostly all about you.

Some facts:
•I'm still completely infatuated by you.
•it's been three years since I realized that.
•I'm utterly and absolutely in love with you.

This is a conversation that I had back in December of last year with a friend.
(Friend=f. Me=m.)

F: "okay, if you need to talk about something I'm here"
M: "I'm still infatuated with the thought of (the name of this boy) and seeing each other every day over winter break isn't going to help that. I know that it's going to suck for me in the long run either way. I always get too attached. I'm still regretting things that I did in April about being stupid and not telling someone how I truly feel about someone else. I know that if I told them, it would be a terrible downfall. But at least it would be a terrible downfall with him, right? But no. I told a little white lie, and I could see the disappointment hit his face. But it wasn't until after the fact that I realized what I did. At least he would have known then, right? He would have known as well as everyone else at that party. And when I went over there today, [to his house to study] I was looking at him playing with his little sister and I thought, "damn. how did I get so lucky to have you?" But I don't have him. And I constantly think about him. And if he knew that he would probably stop talking to me because it's unreal the amount that I do. I'm disappointed in myself. I'm nervous, but I don't know what I'm nervous for. I want something to happen, but I know that it can't. And if it did, everything that we've built would go down the drain. It's been 2.5 years [now more than 3]. 2.5 [ again, 3 years] incredibly confusing years. And I still can't stop thinking about him." 

So if this person were to read this, or rather anything that I write.
Now, hopefully you know that it's about you.