Butterflies were eating at my stomach, or maybe it was what he said, I can’t remember. He makes me too nervous to care and he’s too careless to bother asking why I’m always smiling.
Careless as he is, I couldn’t possibly care more. A passing glance, a crooked smile in my direction; I know, for at least those three seconds, it was me he was thinking about. It was me that was in his head, instead of the other way around.
There’s a curve in my lips as I speak with a smile, even though I’m saying all of the wrong words. A skeptic look on his face turns into laughter as he realizes what I just said, or maybe it was because I’m blushing. I never was one to not make a fool of myself.
The butterflies make a home in my stomach again, and he can’t seem to figure out why. He probably thinks I’m some dork who is happy way too often, but what he doesn’t know is that I’m happy because he is around. Everyone else tries to fill my thoughts with negativity about him, but all of their words mean nothing. He’s the biggest star in his own mind.
My ears pick up the words from the songs playing through the radio and I smile, reconnecting with those damn butterflies again. When my fingers grace my six-string my mind races with words and music. All the words he says creating a song. His song in his voice as it dances against my ear drums, skipping and playing over.
Those words left his lips like hot air against a cold window; slightly faded. The stupidity impulse tapped into the wrong section of my brain, letting go the wrong information. Now he’s like a ghost, he barely comes around. He no longer glances in my direction and he no longer lets me hear his voice.
I’m hanging on dreams of a better tomorrow that has yet to come. His eyes are stuck in the front of my mind and his words are stuck in the back of my throat. He’s everywhere I wish he wouldn’t be. All of those people that tried to keep me from speaking to him are secretly smiling, giving me fake comfort.
I never thought I would be the one to get sick over this, over everything, over a boy. No sleeping, no happiness, just exhaustion and lonliness.
I tried to close my eyes but I always see his face. Haunting me like he used to. I find myself dreaming of him and that smile that he used to give to me. I’m feeling cold without his voice and sad without his friendship. This town just wasn’t made for two I guess.
I stand there now; eyes adverted to the ground, his figure before me. My hands stuffed deep inside my jean pockets, his limp at his side. My feet were planted awkwardly to the ground and I began to sway back and forth. These weren’t butterflies this time, these were nerves. I was nervous.
As if life moved in slow motion, my eyes traveled upward to meet his staring back at me. I bit my lower lip, not liking the silence as I waited impatiently for that “Hey” I’ve been longing to hear.