Why I Like You

by joanabagano

Can't find a decent-er picture

I don’t like you because you impress me. That’s too mainstream. And superficial.

Your feet reek. Go get some air fresheners and wash your shoes and buy some decent deodorant. Though you getting fresh won’t change anything. Just the smell of this room. And maybe a bit of your dignity.

You’d think I like you because your hair is going in all the right directions. NO. I like it when it’s going in all the wrong directions, but you aren’t, because you’re walking towards me with that wide smile on your face.

But I don’t like you because of your smile either. I’ve seen all the little bits and pieces of food that got stuck in between your teeth and you didn’t even know and you kept on smiling and I got disgusted. But that’s my digestive system that got turned off and not my heart.

I’d rather see you in your seven-year old shirt that says “Hey, I’m actually turning ten already” than find you wearing expensive collars and an empty wallet that made you empty your stomach as well.

Look at me. I don’t like for your talent. Not at all. When I see you doing what you love to do, I’m happy. But that’s not why you got me. In the first place, your talent was never for me. So why should I bother forcing you to keep doing it when I didn’t have anything to do with it in the first place? But please, keep using your talent. You know what it really is for.

And when you get amnesia and don’t know where you’re really good at, I’d still like you.

I’d still like you when no one’s noticing your posts on Facebook and when you think you don’t have any real friends left. No one dictated my feelings to go your way, so.

Oh, and guess what, I don’t care if you’re a straight-A student or just A student. I don’t like what you know but what you do with what you know, whether it be plenty or few.

I like a meaningful conversation — one that stays in my head until the minute I close my eyes and retire to bed. Although don’t think that your jokes are probably what made our conversation meaningful.

I don’t like you because you’re funny. I like you because you still joke even when people frown at your sense of humor. Who would frown at a sense of humor? The one without one, I believe!

But let’s forgive them. They might not like you but hey, I’m here.

I like you.

That’s just it.

I like you because you don’t impress me. Well, the better one would be, I like you because you don’t impress people.

You talk with your mouth full.

You punch my arm assuming I would get hurt.

You laugh wholeheartedly as if the world were the joke and the world wouldn’t outlast you.

You admit that you don’t know how to do something. And you don’t learn it just because you learn that someone liked doing it. I like that.

Learn things because you want to learn them, not because you want to impress. Why am I saying this? You’re already doing it.

Well, I like you because you’re probably gonna read this and not have a hint that you’re the one I’m talking about. Thanks for being clueless, cause that might exactly be the reason why I like you.

Or not.

I like you.

That’s just it.

Sorry if this post is lacking in coherence. I just couldn’t find the right way to explain why I like you. Err, cause it’s not explainable.