It's amazing how I can obsess silently over one guy and then suddenly I see some other guy staring, well maybe glancing at me, and then BOOM. I fall into an abyss. After that, I can't stop sliding my eyes, discreetly, at least I think discreetly, past him. Sometimes, I feel as if he's staring at me. But then I see the teacher's standing right in front of me, and my heart sinks. I don't know why I keep wondering what he thinks of me. Hell, I want to know what everyone thinks of me. I wish I could read minds; I want to know what I look like to other people. Know how I sound. This sounds superficial, a bit, I know, but I can't help it. I want to know, badly, if any guy out there would ever like me. I read romance stories. A lot. But all the girls on there have what they call "hidden beauty." Pssht. You either have beauty or you don't. It depends on the person who's looking at you.
In the hallway, we accidently brush elbows. My heart accelerates a bit, then slowly decreases back to a normal heart rate. I don't know how he can make me feel like this. I turn around in Science, he sits behind me. And I see him looking at me. Maybe glancing because I looked back. I wonder about him sometimes. He's so different than all the other guys at my school. He has the most amazing hair, like the stereotypical emo or scene kids have. And insanely gorgeous eyes. There is more to him, I'm sure, I've never really interacted with him that much. So I don't know. He's one of those creative souls. He has mood swings; once he was in a depressed state and the next, slaphappy. But he's more gloomy than happy, it seems. I want to be the person that whenever he sees me, his eyes brighten and theres a smile on his face.
I want to be like other girls. The ones who don't give a damn about what other people think. Who dress in the most outrageously cute and bright clothing. But I know I can never be like, it would be going against who I am. I'm not like those kind of girls. I'm shy and outspoken. It's not that I can't speak in class, I can, but when it comes to voicing my opinion on something, I start stuttering and stammering. I can read passages out loud in front of the class, my essays, anything. But I can't talk about my opinion on a book, per say, if I do not have a strong connection to it. He can. He asks questions. And in a way I admire him, wishing that I can be as open as he is.
I don't think we've ever even talked to each other. We have once, in ninth grade. Just a year ago. To get to know everyone in the class better, we were playing a matching game; books to authors. Mr. Brown stuck a name of a book or an author to someone's back. We couldn't see the one on our own backs, but we could help the others. Mine and his matched. I wish I could say I remembered which one ours was, but I didn't like him that much then. I thought he was cute. But I was to busy with my obsession with Twilight then to notice any guys.
I first actually began to notice him at the end of the semester. A group of friends and I decided to hit upon a local coffee shop after finals were over. He was there. I started silently crushing on him a few weeks before that, I was secretly thrilled for him to be there. It was funny how we noticed him there. The friend who was sitting in front of me mentioned him; staring at us. She thought it was creepy. I said I did too, but I didn't really care. He wasn't staring at us, most probably; I think he was looking out the window to see if his friend was walking down. We pretended not to pay attention to him, until we saw that someone had chocolate fondue. We wondered if they brought it from home ( we thought that was kind of odd). Two of my friends got up and went over to where he was. There was a poster advertising chocolate fondue.
After that, I began to notice him everywhere. Sometimes I'd see him walking downtown, while I was waiting to catch my bus. In the halls; listening to music. Talking with people I'd never talk to. It's not like he's out of my social circle or what not. He's friends with a lot of my friends. It's just that I've never talked to him. I wanted to, but it'd be a little odd if I just walked up to him at random and said, "Hi. I don't think we've ever talked anymore." Christ. We're in high school, not kindergarten anymore. He'd probably think I was on drugs or something.
Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks about me. Like the way I think about him. I want him to notice me. I know he know that I'm alive, but I want something more. He's not my ideal guy. But for some reason, I can't get him outta my head. Cue song. "And that's what you get for falling again, you can never get him out of your head." End song. I want him to realize that he's in love with me, and he's been in love with me since he first saw me and then he kisses me, and I'm crying. But this ain't no romance story. This is life. I wonder if our glancing at each other will ever amount to anything, but I know it won't.
I can't really say that I'm in love with him, but I can say that I'm in love with the idea of him. Even though he's not my ideal, he's everything I want. At least I think I want. I sound like one of those idiotic lovesick teenage girls with a enormous crush. But I am a lovesick teenage girl. And I do have a hippopotamus sized crush. And he has a girlfriend.
Authors Note: This is based on true events that happened to me. I changed one name in here Mr. Brown. (:). I do not own the song Pretty Girl by Sugarcult or Twilight by Stephenie Meyer even though I'd like to. Thank you if you took the time to read this story. And please review. :D
-Martin the Waterskier.