Next time, come back and start a conversation about my favorite food, or just tell me you think I dropped something and give me a butterfly keychain. I’m a sucker for butterflies. Come back when we’re both more mature. I’ll act like I’ve never met you before, but I bet you’ll still figure out how to make me fall. Next time, I’ll be a lot more fixed. Fixed enough to wear every favorite color of mine without having the feeling that I look hideous. You won’t have to use indirect gestures or suffer from my mixed signals anymore. Maybe then my hands won’t shake when I’m tired, so it’ll be safe to help you shave your beard. Next time, we’ll have so much time on our hands that you’ll name every star you see in my eyes. You won’t have to ask others to tell me things on your behalf.. I’ll be there. Always. Listening thoroughly to what you want to tell me.
I hope by that time, you won’t have fallen for some other girl with a smarter brain, clearer skin and a life that allows her to say yes to whatever you have to offer her, for you have a lot to offer. You’ll offer her a warm smile everyday that makes her problems melt into a sea of brown and gold chocolate just like your eyes. You’ll shower her with hugs while telling her how beautiful and interesting she is. You’ll offer her a universe I’ve always wished to live in, and I’ll be forever jealous.
You’ll never feel like a brother to me, screw that. 
You’re perfect. Now isn’t.