• I love him, don't I?
    I never realized it before,
    not an easy thing to grasp.
    At first, a pest.
    Something to avoid.
    That squeal in his laugh...
    that impish glint in his grin.
    Why do these things that were so annoying before,
    suddenly seem so endearing?
    Why don't I pull away as quickly, when his hand brushes against mine?
    It's love, isn't it?
    Or, perhaps only like?
    Can a person truly tell?
    I've never liked him.
    I've tried to avoid him.
    But...why?
    Perhaps...perhaps I knew.
    Maybe I knew he'd grow on me like he does.
    Deep down, I always knew I loved him,
    no matter how irritating he is.
    No matter how many times he'll pinch my arm, or laugh at me when I trip.
    No matter if he's a pest, or...whatever it is that he is.
    I've always loved him.
    Now...the problem is....
    Does he love me?