It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you.

While sitting on the back deck of your house, I stared out across the field.
Throughout my mind swirled thoughts of the beauty, and hope this place naturally consisted of.
I wanted nothing more than to stay here forever. But that, I knew, would never be possible.
I walked back inside, and found myself alone.
Thoughts continued to spin through my mind as I lied back down upon your bed.
I wished for a reason to believe.
But none came to mind...

An hour had passed, and I desired someone to talk to.
I opened another door, and saw you lying, peacefully asleep.
I felt that to disturb you would be cruel, so I left.
Another 20 minutes went by, and no longer could I stand it.
Waking you up caused me to feel horrible, but I felt better having someone to talk to.

We talked, laughed, sang, and cleaned.
In my eyes, there could be nothing more enjoyable.. nothing more pleasant.. or lovely....

Finally, it came time to leave.
I did my best to make sure I was last out the door, and as I stood in the entry way, I looked back at you, and handed you a single rose. I had searched everywhere for one. I only hoped you would appreciate it.. or like it.. hang it on your wall perhaps..
But even if you simply threw it away, I would understand.

I may be only myself, and I know it's not much...
I only hope, that perhaps you'll realize someday..
You're not just another nice guy that I've somehow gotten the pleasure of meeting..
You're not just chivalrous, funny, or deeply intricate..
You're my friend.