I know I shouldn’t like you, but how could I not? You’re sweeter than sugar itself. Mary Poppins should be prescribing a spoonful of you to- no wait, that could sound so wrong.
Between the way words fall from your mouth, tumbling and stumbling so awkwardly — and yet in the most charming of ways — until they’re right there, knocking on my heart to be let in. Slowly and surely they’re finding that they can fight their way inside, squeezing through the gap under the door, falling through the chimney. All those little spaces I’ve left unguarded, you’ve discovered. Not the most pleasant of entrances, but it’s the best you can do under my resistance.
I shouldn’t like you, but I do – even though I know you will leave me soon. It’s not that I have commitment issues, or trust issues, or any other type of issues at all. It’s that I’ve seen the plane ticket. Saturday morning June 21st, flight EI 132 to San Francisco, a city full of dreams and bursting with your people.They’re your people, and I’m not one of them. That city is not for me, and selfishly I hope it’s not for you too. You’re going and there’s no way I can prevent it. The best I can do is hope that you will return — swiftly, almost as if you never left. But you won’t return, just like I’ll never leave.
I know I shouldn’t like you, but I do.
I don’t often find your jokes funny. They could have grown on me, but we haven’t that sort of time. Your infectious laughter is usually more humorous than the joke itself — I can’t help but want to laugh along. I’ll never tell you this secret though, in case it seems like I’ve been lying about finding you funny. It doesn’t feel like a lie to me — it’s a white lie, if anything — but you may find it offensive or it may knock your confidence. I would never want to hurt you.
Maybe I should like you. You’re adventurous in a way that I’m not, but maybe one day will be. You have taught me that people like you exist, although there is the fear that you are the most wonderful of them all. By letting you go I’m denying us the chance of whatever this may be, if it could be anything. But by not following you as you chase that dream, I’m giving up the dream of you.
I really shouldn’t like you.