the greenest grass growing

What is it about you that still gives me this feeling of wanting you? We barely talk in the morning, but you glance my way and I slip a little at you too.  But why does it always end with you approaching me with your adorable little smile and your laugh? Was that really meant for me, only me? Or do you do that to everyone else? Yes, I do know it’s not safe to assume such because of all the times I did back then, and ended up getting hurt.  Well, I can’t help but think so sometimes, because that’s what I do to seek comfort.

Why do I allow you to go beyond my wall of apathy?

You exude this shy confidence and I am left at a loss of words.  Why do I only lose when I’m with you? Do you feel comfortable in that stage you’re standing on, and that you have power over me to reach for you without you doing the same? But you have someone else, right? And I can never blame your actions.  It was really probably meant for all your friends.  I can never set myself apart because I had, and it always ended up the same anyway.  “We’re just friends, don’t think of this the wrong way.”

Is it just about me, when I lose against you? I hate it when you start to rise above me and I am left wallowing in lost syllables and nonsensical mumbling, while you smile and I throw back a nervous grin.  But we always have moments, don’t we? Is that worth holding on to, to give me temporary answers until you yourself say the truth? What is this game we’re playing? It seems to me like you know all the rules and I’m this guinea pig running around answering tests and holding in questions I’ve always wanted to ask.

But until you finally speak, i continue to revel in our moments.  Moments I selfishly think are ours to hold, and ours to keep secret.  From the way you throw glances at me, and the way you smile was only meant for me.  You don’t have to tell me yet.  Just give me this time to make this last longer than I’d hoped because we have limited time.

You’re leaving soon and this, this entire thing will be forgotten in an instant just like time.

We age and moments like this were meant to be buried afterwards.

But what happens to us?


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