You make me exponentially happy but I get scared at where this is going.
We’re pretty close — and like what all close friends do, we play pretend. Pretend that you’re the boy who’s trying to chase me and I’m the girl who’s holding back her feelings. I’m the shy type, so I’d laugh it off every time you play your game. But slowly and carefully, I am catching your drift. And I think I’ve reached that point where my feelings are neither black nor white and it’s keeping me awake at night.
When I lean my head on the table
Or when I zone out of reality
It’s neither the rest nor the solitude that calms me down
But the way you gently play with my hair
Or pat my head as you ask, Are you alright?
It’s funny how when you’re explaining things, you are actually looking at me but when I turn to listen, you cut off your gaze.
It’s one of those tiny fragments of shyness you show that I’m falling into.
You told them it’s between you and me; our little secret. It wasn’t much to hide about, but concealing it through our silence and occasional glances made me feel slightly special and victorious above all other girls out there. I know, it’s wrong to assume.
I knew I’d see you tomorrow and the day after. We never talked except for the casual thank you’s and excuse me’s. But that was enough, you know? Just seeing you. The way you never smile when you’re focused at what you’re doing. The way you click your pen when you’re thinking. The way you chuckle out a laugh. And I’ve noticed this, too: the way you throw careful glances when I pass by you.
It’s been two weeks since we stopped our routinary schedule. We don’t see each other anymore. Only the thought of you remains and blurry images of you flash before my mind. I was scared of this. I knew my feelings would disappear. And it did. I don’t feel it anymore. And I miss it, but I can’t seem to grasp it back.
“I like this, you know?”
“What I’m trying to say is, I like us. You and me.”
“But we’re not even together.
We’re just friends.”
“Exactly, that’s what makes us beautiful. We have this thing beyond friendship, but nothing more than lovers.”
It’s those times when you walk past me;
Those times when you peek through my shoulder to check on what I’m doing;
Those times when you teasingly headlock me;
Those times when you put your forehead against my left shoulder and suppress your laughter;
Those times when you nuzzle my hair while I’m spacing out;
Those times when you sit on my arm rest and make my head your elbow’s arm rest —
Those are the times that you are the scent of soap bubbles
That I have not grown immune to.
It was just the two of us left on our way to the station. My eyes couldn’t help but notice every atom of you. I liked how your cheeks were flushed from the cold, how your eyes seemed to smile in sync with your dimples, and how I could see your breath fogged up the air as you talked. You said you left your gloves at home. I stared at my gloves. Obviously, my tiny hands are nothing compared to your bulky-manly hands. You placed your hand at the back of my neck. I tried to free myself from your piercing cold fingers. You laughed at my weakness and shrugged, placing your right arm on my right shoulder. I looked down. Honestly, your hand wasn’t anything close to freezing. It’s just — I wanted to keep my distance from you…cause I shouldn’t be crushing on you for so many reasons. That’s when you placed your hand on my forehead, lifting my head up. I was technically still trapped around your arm, every bit of my system flustered and yet you seem to do it so nonchalantly. We must look cute walking together like this. I curse myself. You turned to look at me and moved my head to face you, letting out a soft laugh. You put your hand down, dangling it on my shoulder. You were still laughing for God knows what reason, while there I was worried if you felt how warm my face became.
I hate how you’re not helping me un-crush you. Cause I shouldn’t be crushing on you for so many reasons.