Stupid, silly love

Until I met you I hadn’t known
what kind of man I do really want.
It’s been a long time that I’ve outgrown
the childish dreams of fairy-tale love,
but then there was you, prince on white horse,
who would to me, begging, give a half
of his love instead of a warm coat
like in the Christian legend of old.
I’d always thought it just a strange chance,
maybe a funny play of fate, when
people with like names have a romance,
although I’ve known some couples like that.
Well, now I know how such things happen,
I’ve experienced it on my own,
though hadn’t expected it at all.
But Teddy Bear wouldn’t love me back.
I shouldn’t be feeling what I do,
for in fact, I didn’t ask for it,
but I’m still more attracted to you.
Day-night, you’re constantly on my mind.
Seeing you at least for a moment
each week brightens my mood in instant.
It makes me cry that I can’t tell you
’bout this all, ’cause you can’t imagine
just how much I desire you, yet
I’m hardly on your interest’s margin.
Million times I’ve been considering
writing you ’bout what I feel to you,
each time I arrived to decision
it wouldn’t be a wise thing to do.
But is this what I feel really love?
Isn’t is just my raging hormones?
Just lack of intimacy as I
haven’t had a date in seven years?
Everyone redes me to forget you,
such an impossible thing to do.
Maybe I’m idealizing you,
I honestly like the way you are
and hope that if I couldn’t date you
some day we could become at least friends.