To that guy in my class I never had the courage to talk to
I talk to you for the first time, you tell me you love Messi and I say, “but Ronaldo is much better”, pretty ironic, considering the fact that I don’t even know what a quarterback means.
But I want to talk, so I keep arguing. You tell me in detailed statistical analysis the reasons why Mr. Messi should be considered best, and my last argue to that is, “Well, Ronaldo is hotter so”, you sigh and don’t say anything.
Our Physics teacher asks us to find out the value of the gravitational constant, I quickly copy it down from the book and raise my hand to answer. Sir comes and checks if I’ve done the whole calculation, and I tell him, “I saw it in the book”. He sighs and shakes his head, and you laugh. I love the sound of your laugh, it feels like rain, safe.
When I look at your deep brown eyes, all I see is something deep, something that’s hidden, and wishes to be hidden. I want to come near you and talk to you, but words fail me.
You come and sit next to me on the bus, I’m a little anxious, I have no idea what to do with my hands, my hair. Suddenly I’m too aware of my own body. I ask my friend to click photos, I don’t even ask you if you want to click one. So you just sit there, and try to squeeze in one, I give you the phone, and you click the only photo we have together.
We are in the bus again, everyone is exhausted, sleepy from the energy draining picnic we just had, except, of course, the couple in the backseat who keep kissing, I mean, learn to keep your hands off each other, everyone’s gotta have some decency, no?
I am sweating so I remove my sweater, put on my headphones, my head bouncing on the window glass as the bus moves.
I can’t find my sweater, I ask people if they’ve seen it, and they say you have it. I see you using my sweater as a blanket on your face, sleeping soundly. I realise I forgot to put on deodorant today, I wonder if it smells bad, but you look peaceful so I don’t disturb. I remember reading a fact that if someone’s body odour smells good to you, it means that their immune system is opposite to yours, this happens so that the chances of finding a mate with opposite immune system is greater so that any offspring you produce together will have a stronger immune system. I wonder if it’s true, if you found comfort in my smell.
I don’t want to think about you, so I write things I don’t like about you, it’s hard because I don’t know you that well, but I manage to write things that will surely keep my mind off to think about you for a good while. It’s easy convincing your brain to accept lies than the truth. But it’s better that way.
You tell you love her in the comments of your recent photo, and I wonder if love means something to you, or if it’s just something you say the next day to every girlfriend of yours.
You guys broke up, already. I heard from the rumours going around that you told her you needed to concentrate on your studies. None of your friends like her, apparently. I wonder why you were together, is it because she’s pretty? Or because she has something beautiful inside her? I wonder if you put looks on a higher pedestal than what’s on the inside.
I tell my bestfriend that I think you like her. She tells me I’m being silly, but I know. You look at her the way I look at you. I wonder if you’ll ever know, if I’ll ever have the guts to even talk to you, knowing fully well, I won’t.
My bestfriend tells me you do like her. So I was right, I always know. It’s like I have an inbuilt automatic switch to know who likes who. My bestfriend and your bestfriend are in a relationship, I wonder if that’s the reason why you never had the courage to tell her that, just like I don’t, although our reasons are different. She tells me that you and your ex were together because you wanted to move on from her. It doesn’t hurt, because I knew it any way.
It never hurts, I don’t think you’ll ever like me like that, so it’s alright, everything’s alright.
You’re singing. Your voice…it’s so soothing. I tell my friends I love your voice but I can’t say it to you.
You’re glistening with sweat, you just had your football match. You’re wearing a skinny black top, which is perfectly accentuating your shoulders. I tell my bestfriend it looks good on you and she says it out loud. I’m red, I don’t know what to say, I ask her to shut up and I tell you I never said it.
Last exam, that’s the last time I see you.
