You

I guess you're the kind of person that everyone likes, everyone likes, everyone. They tell me you're like a brother to them, a son to them, a friend to them. And I guess you like them too. The faceless group of fans. But I don't like you. No, I don't. Because I know I don't want to end up like them. I don't want you to like me. I want you to love me. I want to be the person who is the guard of all your secrets, in whose arms you can cry and on whose shoulder you can sleep on. I want to be the first person you call with  your bad as with your good news and I want texts from you in the middle of the night asking me why I'm still up or if I got home save. No, I don't want you to like me. And I'd hate to like you. Even though you're the kind of person that everyone likes, that everyone likes and that likes everyone.