Really?

Do you really understand what you mean when you say "I don't want to be special to you." Because I'm not sure you do. You want me to show you? It's not waiting for you after class. It's talking to you whenever we might pass in the hallway. It's calling you by your first name. It's not remembering all your favorite things and addictions. It's asking "how are you?" and not genuinely wanting to know. It's not caring, not caring enough. Special doesn't mean bad, it's treasured. Like a pirate and his gold, like a professor and his knowledge, like a dear friend. Special. Oh the special memories I couldn't live without.