So, let me get this straight: you want to talk to me every day, go on dates with me, and smooch but--God forbid--you don't want me to think of you as my boyfriend? Huh.
Well, how about this: those seven little words you just uttered are making me feel like I'm in some shitty rom-com where I'm the neurotic Kate Hudson-y girl and you're the ragtag Matthew McCoughney character who can't get his shit together. (I've never watched any of those movies, I gleaned all of that just from watching the previews.)
I always thought that commitmentphobes were the stuff of Cosmo cover taglines and Dr. Phil show topics; I never thought it was something I'd have to deal with, like contracting scurvy or having a medical exam that requires me to turn my head and cough. But, your refusal to commit is turning me into one of those girls that hovers in the relationship advice section at Barnes and Noble and consults multiple horoscopes about our (obviously doomed) "love forecast." I'm overanalyzing every interaction we have, trying to figure out if I'm acting like a friend or a girlfriend. It's maddening and frankly, I resent it.
Ok, I won't think of you as my boyfriend. I'll just think of you as the guy who wasted my time. *rolls eyes and blows bangs off forehead*