It’s funny.

I think it’s interesting that you’re one of the most mature, talented, funny people on that website. Which is saying something, since you’re REALLY famous there. You get thousands of views within minutes of posting up some art or something comical. (You’re practically a comedian anyways.) You’re freakin’ amazing whereas I’m just somewhat of a normal person, who’s relatively smart, makes decent art, only moderately funny…

… and yet you’re like putty in my hands.

I have it set so every evening when you put up something, I get a notification, and the next day you’ll immediately ask if I thought it was good or not and not say much to the others. You constantly cuddle up to me, and almost seem to treat me like a princess even if I seem to act oblivious or coldly towards this affection. I’d normally think someone with that power and fame would act differently when infatuated, but I guess we’re all human, aren’t we?

It’s interesting how much you seem to like me. I could probably make your day with a simple smile. How easily I could break you if I wanted to, as cruel as that sounds. Don’t think I didn’t see your reaction when I hugged him, that little twitch. It’s strange; only a short while ago, I was desperate for a relationship, yet when I’m given someone like you, I walk the fine line between toying, destroying, and loving. I feel powerful to an extent, and yet…

Hmm. I wonder if I like you? I wonder if you like me, or if you love me?