Disarming

You... are amazing.

The way you've come to know me is nothing short of incredible. You understand everything I say and, more importantly, everything I don't. You can take one look at my face and know exactly what's going on in my crazy, mixed-up head. You listen to me-- really listen-- when I want to talk, talk when I want to listen, and we stay quiet together when I'd prefer that instead.

With You, there is always a choice.

You... are disarming.

You have an easy grin, an easy sense of humor, and an easygoing personality (although you are not, my friend, by any stretch of the imagination, an "easy" character). Frankly, you are way too charming for your own good. I have told you things I've never told anyone before-- and all because you seemed like you genuinely, truly wanted to know. You don't let me dodge the questions. You don't let me retreat, let me hide.

With You, I feel free, unfettered... encouraged to be myself.

You... are confusing.

Sometimes, you blow hot; sometimes, you blow cold. And are you generally that perceptive, or do you save it for me? Or am I merely that obvious, and no one's ever bothered to look?

With You, I'm never quite sure where I stand or what to think.

You... are not exactly Mr. Right.
And I... am not exactly what you're looking for.
We... are not exactly meant to be.

But I'm glad I met You... even though I know I'll never be With You.