With a fractured heart, I want to write about all the times I took the back seat. The times I sat in the shadows and traced the contours of your face on the canvas of my heart while you laughed at her jokes.
I can’t seem to make you happy like she does. Why? What am I doing wrongly. I stayed awake all night cramming the lyrics to your favourite song. Just so. Just so, I could have a conversation with you. I just wanted to impress you. You gave me a smile and told me that you thought it was cool. Was it cool, or was I cool ?
Do you see me?
I had a good feeling about that day, so I dressed up excitedly in a rush to see your face again. They kept playing in my head like a movie. Those kind of movies where two lovers play in the garden, and everything is in slow motion. Romance, they call it. But when I walked into the class, you were with her, hands across her neck, sharing an ear piece and occassionally staring into each other’s eyes.
You didn’t even see me walk in.
Look at me.
Yes, you. You, look at me. Me. With those brown eyes I want you to stare into my soul, because today I’m baring it all for you. Don’t be afraid. Please just look at me.
What do you see?
Your early morning sunshine on a good day or your darkness on a lonely road. Your red light turning to a green light when you’re in a rush, or your green light turning to a red light when it’s your turn. Your excitement or your disappointment, your fantasy or your nightmare, your widest smile or your hardened frown, your serenity or your restlessness.
I can be both.
Just look at me.
Do you see me?