Every day, we
stand side by side, only feet apart. When I ruminate on the subject, I realize
how humiliating the situation appears. For four years I have liked him, crushed
on him, dreamt of him. Sometimes, he walks to his mom’s car and pauses for a
moment, hesitates, and I swear he looks back, I swear it! Maybe, I can talk to
him. Work up the courage to dare a flirtatious glance or come hither smile. He
appreciated my “sparkling wit” before; I can charm him with my words. But…is he
staring or am I over-analyzing and imagining things that my brain desperately
needs to be true to function. The pragmatic side of me takes over, hushes my
inner romantic with a fierce scolding, and I retreat, waiting for the car to
pick me up. I wonder if I even truly like him, or just the idea of the musical
bad boy who doesn’t care what anyone thinks. Oh the despair in my heart!
Darling, I suffer from a severe case of indecisiveness.
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