You’re not what they want. You do a lot, but you’re not what they want. You put yourself out in places you wouldn’t normally be just to give yourself a better chance at what you want. You watch them across the room, watch their back, legs, but hardly ever their face, since they always face someone else. Most times, someone else they want, but not you. Hardly ever you.
You pine for them at night, day, whenever, but you never whisper words about it. You plan and fantasize, write stories in your head about telling them, write more stories about them telling you, but nothing ever gets published. You put those all in little closets in your head. Maybe your family will find those after you die, but no, probably not. They’ll be burned and buried by then.
You see them go through the same, ‘cept their feelings go requited, and your feelings go unrequited. You play like chess, move deliberately. Every word coming out of your mouth is precisely picked, planned. When you’re not flirting, you’re holding your breath, hoping things are responded to well and the way you want them. You never get to know, so you get home at night and lie in your bed while your heart and mind and soul all convulse and all chastise you for not being aggressive enough or outgoing, for saying stupid bullshit, and for ruining your chances forever.
Your stomach hurts.
-------------------------------------------------------
Just to lighten the mood, I'll suggest some lovely music for you. Off of LCD Soundsystem's newest album. Haven't really explored the guy, but this song's really nice. If you're feeling lazy, just skip to around 3 minutes.
No comments:
Post a Comment