There’s something magical about waking up on the floor of her bedroom. The sun peaks through the slits in her blinds and you rub your eyes trying to mentally figure out what time it is. You sit up and realize your pillow sunk beneath her bed frame. Her room smells of cats and sleep, you can’t help but smile. The bedroom door is open, you temporarily panic wondering if she already went down for breakfast but assume her cats must of left earlier. You stretch your arms out to the sides, trying to grab your phone to confirm the time. 10:00. A sigh escapes from your mouth as you wonder if you should wake her or let her sleep. Half grinning, you get on your knees and peek over the mountain of blankets to see her hair sprawled on her pillow, eyes closed, sleeping. You sink back to the floor and scroll through your Twitter and Tumblr feed, thinking about the angel on the bed.

You end up dozing off and waking up a half hour later, she’s up too but yet the silence continues. Her cats reenter the room and jump up to join her on her bed, you secretly wishing you could do the same. She cuddles with her meow meows and talks to them in a voice that enchants your insides. Her cats leave and she finally acknowledges you’re awake. She sighs good morning and you do a double take to make sure she’s talking to you - she is. She’s sitting up in her bed, her bed hair raging, your heart smiling.

She proclaims that she’s headed to the bathroom and you laugh. While she’s gone, you scroll through your Twitter feed, trying to contain the feelings inside. You tell yourself that she doesn’t feel the same and you have to move on, stop torturing yourself. Yet you don’t know that for sure, but you’re too scared to even bring it up. You start convincing yourself that what you’re feeling is wrong and a pit opens in your heart, a pit full of self hate. Your face gets hot as you choke on the tears that are surfacing, you know that no matter how badly you want to tell her, you can’t afford to lose her.

Catching you off guard, she returns and asks if you want breakfast. You reply sure and follow her down to the kitchen, hoping she can’t read your mind. She says you can help yourself to whatever you want to eat. You grab a package of imitation pop tarts while she pours herself a bowl of dry cereal and a glass of milk. She sits next to you at the island, not speaking. Your mind wanders to the future and sitting next to her eating breakfast but actually as a couple, not just friends. You imagine the forehead kisses you would give her and the cute smiles she would give in return. And in that moment, you want to blurt your feelings out because the future looks so promising but you swallow hard on the words you don’t have the courage to say.

An hour later, you’re laying on the floor next to her binge watching a television show through a shady website. You occasionally munch on a cracker while she reaches for a chocolate stuffed Oreo. Periodically you sneak glances at her, wishing you could lean in a kiss her and make out on the floor while the show plays on her laptop that’s sitting on a dining room chair. You bite your lip and look away, heart pumping with forbidden desire. Lost in your mind, she clutches your hand whispering things in frustration as the show reaches a plot twist. Her other hand waving frantically at the laptop as her voice slowly gains conviction, she releases your hand and sighs. Your mind is stuck on wanting her to grab for your hand again.

Late that afternoon, you finish the season of your show and wonder what your excuse will be to visit her house every day. You can’t say it’s to see her beautiful face. You can’t say it’s because you’re crushing so hard on her. You can’t tell her the truth, not because you don’t want to but because you’re too scared of the rejection that will more than likely follow. When you leave that afternoon, you realize she didn’t come up to give you a hug goodbye and your stomach clenches. You wish you had the bravery to let her break your heart but you don’t. You enter your house and let your mind wander to the alternate reality where you express how you feel and she miraculously feels the same. The reality where you sneak kisses in between television shows, make out on the floor late at night, hold her hand as you watch movies, randomly kiss her cheek/forehead while playing video games side by side. The reality where you look over at her and she’s staring back at you and there’s no doubt in your mind that she likes you just as much as you like her.