It's days like this that I think of you. I think of your arms, your muscles making a perfect bubble at your bicep. I think of your soft skin and how badly I want you to wrap your arms around me.
I never told you what I feel. I was and am afraid to. You are living a life far away from me and meeting incredible people that are probably more interesting than I am. I don't blame you, but I want to spend time with you. I want you to know the truth, even if it makes me sound desperate and stupid and immature.
I don't want to stop thinking about you. That night you showed me something that I didn't even know was there. I had never done most of those things that I had done with you before. Did you take other girls to the Chocolate Bar? Did you normally take other girls driving like that? I can't help but feel special. I also couldn't help the tear that fell down my face today when I was thinking about you. Singing that song, I don't even remember which song it was, all I know is I feel a powerful connection to you. My stomach gets in knots when I think about you too long. I think its from longing to tell you how I feel. I tried the cop out way of doing it, I honestly did. I was told it was stupid but I don't care. I wanted to tell you so bad. I wanted to tell you everything but I was terrified. I don't want to look desperate, but there are nights when nothing goes right and I think of you.
My actions are pathetic. They truly are. You kissed me and I kissed you back. There is nothing to be said besides that. You said it felt right. You didn't say you had feelings for me. You didn't say anything beyond that. Bothering you in Boston is stupid but I can't help imagining what it would be like to be with you. I think about you all the time and I wish you were here so I, ha there it is that fateful I. I don't say I'm in love with you because love would mean wishing your happiness even at the cost of my own. I want you to be happy, don't get me wrong, but I want to be happy too.
I have never felt this way towards anyone else. I want to hope that you had/have feelings for me but I know how far fetched that idea is. You don't and that's alright.
I think about you coming back for our high school reunion holding the hand of your beautiful Mexican wife that you met in Boston, or even Cassidy's hand. I admit that imaging that makes me jealous. Which is completely stupid. I have absolutely no claim to you, but no matter how hard I try I can't talk myself off of this ledge. I didn't see us in the same league. Truly. I haven't liked anyone since the summer because of you. I think about that night and I feel chills inside me in anticipation of feeling that way again. Its stupid and I know it, but I want you so bad. I want you with every fiber of my emotional being. I wish he had left instead of you. You are gorgeous, selfless, spontaneous, and fun and I can't imagine anyone taking the place in my heart that you currently occupy.
I wish you would tell me that either you do or don't have feelings for me. I know I imagine you don't. I mean how could you? You are really into exercising and somehow I look like I've never seen a bike. I'm not fat but I'm not your normal type. I'm not the last with her Asian good looks and her love of basketball. I'm not your first crush with her dark hair and definitely not your first kiss. And I'm not your first love the red haired beauty who stole your heart and broke it into a million pieces. I'm me. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I'm not entirely feminine. I like wearing dresses but I don't have the grace of one of my best friends. I want to share my opinions like a friend I stopped talking to but I'm too much of a people person to do that. I considered myself not in your league, but I loved being invited to hang with you and your friends.
Tell me I'm stupid. Tell me to give it up. Tell me to find someone besides you. But just talk to me. I can imagine you texting me. It would go like this:
H: Hi.
M: Hey. How are you?
H: I'm good. How are you?
M: I'm alright. Just getting used to my new job.
H: What job?
M: I work at REMSA on an ambulance.
H: That's really cool.
M: Yeah I think so.
H: What do you like about it?
M: I like putting aside what I'm worried about and helping someone who needs it.
H: That's kind of you.
M: Yup. What have you been up to in Boston?
H: Same old. My ballroom dancing team made it to the semi-finals.
M: That's great! Did you place?
H: No but my friends Rod and Nicki did. They are really good dancers.
M: Do any of your dances get on YouTube?
H: I don't think so. Why?
M: So all of us here could check it out.
H: Oh.
M: Sorry if that seems weird.
H: It's fine. It sounds like your still saying sorry.
M: Yup all the time. It's what I do best.
H: HaHa. I don't think so, but if you say so.
M: I see your grammar hasn't improved much.
H: What?
M: Oh nothing...I just remember reading your essays in English and thinking that your grammar was the only thing wrong with it.
H: Oh.
M: Don't feel bad. Everybody has a different skill. 3/4 of our class couldn't ride the moon buggy the way that you did.
H: I wasn't that great.
M: I heard without you they placed third.
H: Oh. Well, you know I still read your blog right?
M: Umm...what?
H: I still read your blog from high school.
M: Really?
H: Yeah. It's pretty funny.
M: Oh. Which parts?
H: The parts that aren't about me.
M: You read the ones about you? I thought everyone stopped looking at that.
H: Nope. Did you really mean what you said in October's post?
M: This October?
H: Yeah.
M: Yeah. I did.
H: Why didn't you tell me this?
M: Because I was afraid. Why didn't you tell me you still read my blog?
H: What were you afraid of?
M: Why didn't you tell me you still read my blog?
H: I thought you'd stop writing if I told you. Why didn't you tell me how you felt?
M: Because I thought it was stupid. I didn't think there was anyway you would feel the same.
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