I was always the confident one. The one who didn't care what was going on, or what people thought of me. Until I met you. I soon took more then an hour to get ready in the morning. I tried on ninety outfits before deciding with the one I had on first. I bought vanilla chapstick. I went all out for you. Then it was over. Like the end of a good book, like the defeat of a close match, like the end of your favorite song, it was over. I thought I was fine. I only cried everyday for about a month, when we stopped speaking. Until you sat right behind me and I couldn't resist. Every time you put your foot up on my seat, I shivered. I acted annoyed but secretly I wanted more, more then you would offer. Then came time for a switch. Again devastated because you weren't there. Having to see you with her, laughing, wrestling, driving. It kills me. Cliche I know. But it litteraly does. I can't breathe when you walk by, my lungs fill with lust, then my heart shatters. It spills into my eyes so I can't blink, cascades down my legs into my feet so I soon become imobilized.
Why sometimes does fate decide to only have one player in a game for two? Did I do something wrong in a past life? I don't think it's fair that I sit here, hoping, wishing, praying, watching, needing, while you kick back not even knowing anythings going on. I purpously walk past you, nudge you, smirk at you, but nothing. You brush it off like an annoying bug lurking on your shoulder. I'm done. I'm done being brushed off. I need this so bad, it hurts. It's all I focus on. I can't concentrate. Not even now while I'm trying to write this.
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