Hope.

August 15

I can't contain it any more. I watch you.

I get captivated by you.

I watched as day by day the light in your eyes burned out, when before just thinking of him would ignite a spark. I watched how the happiness and joy you spoke with when talking about him was slowly replaced with sadness and indifference. How if I brought him up you would look away and change the subject instead of telling me how the 'funniest thing happened last night' with him. I watched as you rejected his call at lunch that one time, you thought I hadn't noticed. I did.

It gave me hope.

I know it shouldn't have, that I'm a terrible friend - a terrible best friend - because of it, but I can't deny it. Watching as your relationship with him has slowly dwindled into nothing has been the best thing that's ever happened to me.

And then, when you told me you'd ended things with him...I felt euphoric. You asked me if I was all right, telling me that I wasn't breathing. Breathing didn't matter when I was so happy. But I didn't tell you that. Instead I made up an excuse; I said I was amazed that you had broken up; that you gave no indication that things weren't working. I knew it was a lie, I think you did too.

You told me that it just didn't feel right any more, that there was no spark or fireworks or whatever. We joked about how cheesy it all sounded. Inside I knew what you meant. I know what you meant because that's how I feel when I'm around you. All we have to do is touch and there's a fizzle, an electrical current. You can't tell me you don't feel it too.

Then you came up to my house one afternoon, tears cascading your face. For once it wasn't raining, you moaned that the one time you needed it to rain, to have your emotions reflected through the weather, to mix the tears with the rain, it didn't. I was too worried to laugh.

Impulsively I hugged you, to comfort you. You didn't think anything of it; we've hugged plenty of times before, though the hugs mean so much more to me than they do to you.

I pulled you indoors and through sobs that made a piece of my heart crumble, you told me. You said how you had gone to his house, to give him a few things of his you found in your room. But when you walked in after no-one greeted you at the door, even though you had knocked long and loud enough, you said, you heard noises. Moans and groans. Being the innocent and kind hearted person that you are, you assumed someone must've been hurt.

A loud and agonising sob wracked through you, nearly breaking my heart in two, as you prepared yourself to continue. Through a whisper you told me you caught him shagging some girl. You said that you shouldn't have cared, that you and him were other with. But it was only two days after you ended it. Two days you cried. He obviously felt nothing for you, you said. If he didn't like you that way anymore why didn't he just end it, instead of waiting for you to, why didn't he spare you all this pain, you asked me. I just sat there, too shocked to even produce an unintelligent grunt.

I knew he was an idiot but I didn't know he was brain dead.

How could he freely let a goddess like you slip through his fingers so easily, and then go onto another girl within a matter of days without a second thought? As though he wasn't gifted to just know you, let alone be the one to call his girlfriend, to tell everyone that the mesmerising girl beside him was his.

I watched as you broke down. As you crawled onto my lap, wrapped your arms around me and squeezed me to you. All the while tears were falling freely down your still beautiful face with no signs of stopping. I stroked you hair and muttered to you that it was going to be all right, that he was a twat for letting you go and doing that to you. I cradled you to my chest and rested my head on top of yours as, after endless hours, the tears had finally ceased and you had fallen asleep, exhausted.

I can't deny that I loved having you so close to me, to be able to smell the wonderful fragrance of your hair, to feel your chest so close to mine. I can't deny that I watched you sleep either.

I went through that phase with you, the one where you ate copious amounts of ice-cream and re-runs of Scrubs over and over. I didn't understand why you were so upset; you were finally free of that moron. But I was with you throughout it nonetheless.

It was hard though. How I longed to have you in my arms, kiss your hair, your forehead - your lips. To be as close to you as I was that evening.

Another piece of my heart withers away when I think that the only time you allowed me to embrace you, to be so close to you for such a long period of time, was when you were so vulnerable; when you were an emotional wreck.

I remember when we first met, last year, you had moved from Phoenix to the desolate and rainy town of here. I knew that before I even knew you; news travels fast in small towns. What I didn't know is why you did it. That intrigued me. What possible reason could anyone have for leaving such a beautiful, bright and seldom rainy place for this crappy, old dump?

You told me your parents were divorced and after living so long with your mother you thought it was about time to grow close to your father, feeling guilty that you only saw him for two weeks a year. I was astounded. How could anyone be selfless? To leave their life, just to make some else's happier? You were a mystery to me.

You still are. What a wonderful mystery to solve.

I was lucky enough to have you sit next to me in Biology. I think it was God's gift to me, to say sorry for all the crap he's made me go through.

If so, then I forgive him.

We hit it off straight away, after you noticed the sheets under my books and how they had E.A Cullen scripted at the top, a few pieces from the book Alice filled with personalised music sheets she had gotten me for Christmas one year. You joked that it reminded you of E.A Games and told me to 'challenge everything'. It wasn't long before we became best friends.

It didn't take long for me to start falling in love with you either.

You've even dealt with my insomnia for Christ sake. You've brushed off my countless apologies for being such a bitch to you when I went through some of the more horrible nights. You even call me at five A.M because you know I'll be awake, annoyed and bored. You sacrifice your sleep just so you can comfort me.

I guess the reason I'm writing all this is to tell you that I have hope again, like I did before you started dating that jerk. You only went out with him because you knew it would make your dad happy. You're too selfless for your own good.

Again I can watch the Goosebumps on your arms form as I whisper in your ear in class, once more hoping it's because I have that affect on you, not because you're cold. I can gaze as you blush after I've complimented you on how gorgeous you look - which you do, always - hoping it's because you like the idea of me finding you attractive, not because you're not use to the attention. I watch as you give me that smile. The one that seems to be reserved just for me, I hope that I'm right, that I'm not just becoming a crazed psychopath. I hope that you hug me goodbye longer than you do anyone else because you revel in how perfect we fit together.

The one thing that hasn't change though is my constant urge to tell you how I feel. It's always been on the tip of my tongue, waiting to tumble out every time I open my mouth. I have to grind my jaw together sometimes otherwise the words would fall so freely, so easily.

You could be doing the simplest of things, like pushing your beautiful brown locks behind your shoulder and the words would be waiting to parachute out, confessing the desire I feel for you.

I wish they could bungee jump out, so then they could fall as they so desire but then they could come back in again, as though they'd never been said. But that can't happen. I have no doubt that you would hear me, no chance of convincing you, you had misheard me. I'm sure that if I were to tell you, I would scream it at the top of my lungs, letting everyone that resides in this town, and the neighbouring ones, confess my love to you.

I hope that one day I'll grow a pair, muster up enough courage, challenge everything and tell you how I feel.

I hope you'll have me,

Your E.A Games.