.won yppah ma I .dnim lufituaeb ruoy dna uoy evol I .taht dedeen yllaer I ;noitcerid etisoppo eht ni efil ym gninrut rof hcum os uoy knaht …hguoht uoy tem I erofeb elbaresim saw I .sdrawkcab tlef gnihtyreve erehw tniop eht ot snoitome ym pu dexim yletelpmoc uoy ,efil ym deretne tsrif uoy nehW
it’s vaguely humorous that all the while you’re sinking in loneliness, here i am unable to quit wondering about you. i wish you knew someone out there notices your efforts to be a decent human being. you’re all sorts of wonderful.
your lips are pressed together. i wonder what it would be like to kiss them. i wonder if you wonder that as well.
your eyes soften as you turn to me - is it the thought of me that makes that happen? your hair brushing against my arm sends phantoms across my skin, and i want to bury my fingers in it, hold you, make you feel protected.
that’s why it’s difficult. you’re my best friend - how am i to hold back, not force you to choose, or place us at an impasse?
so i wait. and wait.
and hope one day you’ll realize the way i feel, and hopefully… just maybe… feel the same.
When you said “hello” to me, I smiled and thought to myself, “how strange it is that this is the first time a pedestrian has ever spoke to me while I was in motion, and how great is it that it’s a cute boy?” Then I blinked and realized my legs had kept moving and the wheel had kept spinning and I was 10 feet past you.
I should have stopped thinking, stopped pedaling, and said hello, too. I’m sorry for being rude.
I found myself scouring your facebook profile for even more reasons to think you’re fantastic. I also am lonely and busy, but your words make me feel less so. I am in love with your mind, and you still manage to be gorgeous. Why didn’t I muster the courage to talk to you when I had a more realistic chance of conversation with you?
Keep your eyes open, I’ll probably try again soon.
it would maybe be sort of fairly excellent if we could get to the point where when we walk down the hallway by each other it’s not just me whose heart gets rammed up into their throat and whose mouth is gummed shut with everything to say because i can’t say it because we don’t talk enough for me to but it would be great if we could so that next time we walk by each other we would walk next to each other.
I have this daydream where you’ll help me in something school related, and you’ll pretty much save my academic life, and it will be a success. And I’ll tell you that I love you so much at that moment, and you’ll think that I’m just saying that because you helped me, but I’ll really mean it in more than one way. And then I’ll buy you ice cream and tell you how amazing you are. And then I’ll kiss you and you’ll kiss me back, and you’ll taste of chocolate chip cookie dough.
I must say, it’s a rather sweet daydream. Sweeter than that ice cream in my fridge. I think you should help me turn this fantasy into reality.
i have been trying to get you to be my pillow because i like it when my head fits along your shoulder. so stop trying to play it cool. i also like it when you roll on the floor in the school hallway and make explosion noises and pretend that we’re fighting. i like that when we walk to the bus stop you play close attention to what i say and then remember little things that i forget. and today when i got on the bus and you got on yours, and you waved hi to me while they passed each other - that gave me a huge smile.
can we just make explosion noises together? and take the same bus? and lie on each others shoulders when we need to sleep? i know i have been dying to do that for a long time.
— bus stop girl
ps. i like that you enjoy history class and know random facts about wars. let’s be history nuts together.
you don’t know who i am, and i’m pretty sure you don’t even notice me, but it doesn’t change the fact that i… well, i kinda like you. i’ve seen you around but i’ve never had the courage to introduce myself, which is my fault, because who knows, we could have been good friends by now. i don’t know you very well, but i can see from where i stand that you’re different, and that’s a good thing. And if we ever do meet, and you turn out to be the exact opposite, i will always have this memory of you frozen in my heart: being perfect, being the first and last thing i think about everyday, and being the man of my dreams.
why write this? because i know that things could only go 2 ways: either i never find the guts to even introduce myself to you and this just ends up to be one of those silly school girl crushes that i forget, or, by some miracle, we end up meeting, be together, and this is one of the crazy stories i tell you of how i wrote a blog about how much i liked you before you even realized that i’ve been the girl you’ve been looking for.
it is dark and pictures are flashing on the big, glossy screen in front of us and i pretend i know what’s going on in the movie and i pretend i’m not wondering what you’re thinking and i pretend i’m not begging for your elbow to do that annoying thing where it takes all of the armrest and leaves none for me. i’m pretending i don’t want to be one of those people who sits in movie theatres just kissing and i’m pretending i don’t want you to do the cheesy thing where you yawn and put your arm around me.
i call you pretentious, but i’m a little hypocrite. can you do that yawning thing now please?