Senior year. I was the new girl and you were the music kid. You were kind enough to show me around school and become the first ever familiar face in a completely new environment. We didn’t have any of the same classes except for music – something you were extremely passionate about, which I noticed almost immediately. Whenever I came to class and the teachers were yet to show up, you’d be on the keyboard playing whatever while everyone else danced and just had fun. Because that’s what you do. You do you and that’s fun. You made it really easy to be your friend, which wasn’t what you wanted (apparently). But you let the year go on anyway without a hint.
Fast forward to our last couple of days of high school: you asked to hang out for the last time before you had to leave the country, and we did. We had dinner and watched a movie… kind of like a date but kind of not. I still saw you as a friend. The night was coming to an end and that’s when you told me everything. How you felt about me and how you wished you could’ve told me sooner. I was silent and things got a little awkward. You kissed me on the cheek and said goodbye.
Fast forward to you being on the other side of the world: you stopped messaging me constantly. We’d leave each other messages here and there but we just weren’t as close as we used to be. The thing was is I miss you. In a weird way. In a more-than-a-friend sort of way. In a I-think-I-like-you kind of way. And I don’t think you care about me anymore. At least that’s what you’re telling me, ironically, through your lack of words.
I’m more confused than ever. Do I like you for you, or for the you who had a thing for me? Do you still think about me? Should I reach out to you or would that just stop you from living your new life in a new place full of new faces? It’s crazy how much things can change. How could we go from talking every single day to not talking at all? Things probably don’t have to be this complicated but they are. Because that’s what we do. We do complicated and that fucking sucks.
“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”
He picked me up at 8 that night and we went to the park. No plans, just us. He laid out a blanket and I poured the wine. He told me about the dream he had the night before and I told him mine. I loved the way he laughed at my terrible jokes and then told me his own to make me laugh harder. We talked for hours and hours under the stars. For a moment, we were alone on this earth. Nothing mattered. Nothing but him. Even in silence, so much was said. There was an intensity every time he put his hand in mine. An innocence every time he kissed my cheek. It was the perfect romance. The sort of romance you crave but hardly find.
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
This one was different.
He paid attention to every single word and
not once did he take his eyes off mine.
His eyes glistened a sparkling blue.
I was drawn in by him.
Every movement he made.
Every breath he took…
I noticed everything.
And he noticed me.
Everything about him was comfortable.
I felt right with him and every second spent with him was perfect.
I watched as he took a sip of his coffee and licked the foam off of his lip.
He caught me staring at him and he laughed. What? I quickly looked away, embarrassed. Nothing, I chuckled. Sorry.