I think I'm in love.
There's this guy, see, and he makes my heart beat faster every time I catch a glimpse of him. My throat closes over as he walks past. Every meaningful word he speaks, my eyes water with awe. How could anybody possibly be this perfect? He's sweet and funny, and even though he doesn't always say the right thing, he goes out of his way to make things right. He's beautiful inside and out. And he loves with his whole heart. Nothing is ever half-done with him.
And I wish he would love me.
But he doesn't. He hardly knows I exist. I'm always in the background of his life; you could even call me the background music. The ambient sound of his day. But he doesn't know it's me. He has eyes for someone else completely. To him, she is the leading lady. She has the gumption. She's not some weedy girl on the piano, somewhere offstage, looking on jealously, and knowing that she would never have the guts to get up there and expose her feelings to the world. Nope, that's me.
And when he does notice me, my stomach flips and I try not to vomit as I talk. I scream in my head, Get a grip! but I can't help it. Like when I'm a klutz as usual, and I trip and my books and music sheets go flying everywhere. If he sees, he always stops to help. He doesn't laugh like the other kids. He asks if I'm okay. Well, I think it's pretty obvious I'm not okay, buddy. I just humiliated myself in front of you, AGAIN. But he ignores my red cheeks and helps me up.
And if ever he needed my help on something, I agreed without a second thought.
But I didn't realise that sometimes my help was dragging my hopes further away. My hopes of him falling for me because I assisted him, supported him, helped him get better. He's wasn't doing it for me. He's doing it for her. He wants to be good for her. Sometimes I feel like he's using me, like he's aware of my feelings as uses them to his advantage. But I know deep down that's my bitterness making excuses. He wouldn't do that. He just wants to improve.
And he did improve. When the time came to show everyone what he had inside him, what I knew was there all along, he was fantastic. But then again, so was she. But he made sure my effort wasn't wasted. He made sure everyone knew that they couldn't have done it without me. I got my moment.
But what next? I didn't exactly sink back into the oblivion I existed in before I got to know him. I gained some new friends. Kept the same enemies. I was just glad to be someone he considered and acquaintance, maybe even a friend.
I thought about different ways that I could tell him what he meant to me, without actually saying the words. What did he know about me? What did he know made me tick? He knew I liked music. Then it hit me. I could write him a song. I could pour all my heart into a song, and maybe he would piece it together that it would be about him.
He didn't piece it together.
Boys are stupid.
Instead, he sung it with someone else. HER. His girlfriend. And when I saw him singing it to her, I realised that he saw in her what I saw in him. And no one, especially not me, could take her place. I wasn't that girl to him. I was just someone he went to school, and worked with. I'm not the music in him.
And so when he screwed up with the girl of his dreams once again, guess who came up with the brilliant plan to get them back together? That's right, yours truly. Behind this shy persona they is a mastermind in hiding. And she hardly ever pokes her head out, unless there is really good reason. And when this guy needs help, that's more than enough. Here I come to save the day.
I know. I'm pathetic, right? To pin all my hopes on this guy who barely sees me as a friend. All the time I'm in the back, fixing his life up without him even realising. WHY DO I ALWAYS FIND MYSELF IN THIS POSITION? I organize his life so everything will always be perfect for him, where as I'm the one left in the dust.
I'll tell you why.
Because I am desperately clinging to the hope that one day he'll wake up and realise I've been in front of him the whole time.
It might not be today, and it might not be tomorrow. And as long as he has his girlfriend around, I'll never be more than his background music. But eventually, he's going to realise that even though I'm not the most prettiest girl at East High, or the most smartest, or even the most talented. I'm not the most anything.
But I am me.
And if he ever gives me the time of day, and I know he will soon, then it's bound to happen. We're going to click. A light bulb is going to go off over his head, and bells will ring and fireworks will explode and he's going to be the one short of breath and stumbling over his words.
Don't you dare judge me. Because I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I should just give up. There is one I a million, no, billion chances of my dreams ever coming true. Everything I imagine will never happen in reality. Accept it. Get your head out of the clouds and put your feet on the ground.
I wish I could. You have no idea how many times I've given myself that speech. And then when I think I might be getting over it, that I can go a whole hour without thinking of him once, he does something wonderful and I'm falling for him all over again. Hook, line and sinker.
So one day, maybe even today, we are going to be happy together.
I can see him walking down the corridor towards me. I feel what I usually feel when he gets close enough. It's like electricity. He gives off a kind of energy that makes my skin tingle. I look to the floor, flushed. I can't let him see me like this.
"Hey Kelsi," he smiles at me as he passes.
"Hi Troy," I splutter at the floor.
He doesn't even really respond. He keeps going to Gabriella's locker and plants a kiss to her lips.
I was so hoping it would be today.
But I'm used to this sort of disappointment. How sick is it that I live my life based on how Troy greets me in the morning? I know it's going to be a bad day when he overlooks me, and zones in on Gabriella. I know it's going to be a good day when he stops to chat about a good band he saw on the weekend, or if I've started writing any new music.
I grin and bear it. I have to. I can't let anyone know what I'm feeling. Because then word would get to him, and he would know, and I'd be humiliated, knowing he doesn't like me the way I like, no, love him. I don't want him to know. Not yet. I want him to figure it out for himself.
But until then, I'll just wait.
My life in a fucking nutshell.
I know it's not good, I'll probably delete it later, but I really needed to vent, and I need to know that I'm not the only one full of angst about love and shit.
Review, and do not be like 'aaww that's so sad FROWNYFACE'. Review me if you have ever felt the same.
That's all I want.