I don't even know why I'm doing this to myself.

Well, I'm not actually doing anything, but I wonder why I'm attracted to you. You're mostly not my type. You're not skinny. You're not young or artistic. You're... well, you're from a totally different profession. And giving orders is not a problem for you. You don't have good wrist shape, or good hands, or lean arms. And the more you talk, the more I'm sure that you're homosexual.

But I don't know. You seem to belly something else. (Pardon the pun.) I think you'd make a good mentor. Mm... and I think you're a sweet person beneath all that. Although you are really quite extravagant. Too extravagant for my taste, in fact.

I think I am just revelling in the assumption that someone actually trusts me enough to entrust errands on me.

I think I did a partly good job. Somehow.

And I feel like I'm not just some sort of long time furniture in the room because you actually acknowledge my presence.

I appreciate that a lot. Like, you have no idea how much.

I know I can't really talk so much in front of new people, but it doesn't necessarily mean that I don't notice, or that I'm being aloof... and you somehow see that.

Thank you.

I think I will just leave it at that.