It should be poetic..
The words I write should roll off my tongue, with a jab to the gut. As if you know the feeling...
But the way I feel is not poetic...
Staying up until morning just to talk to the boy I so desperately adore...
Not that I would have slept anyways...
Messages spent talking about his crush...
A girl that isn't me...
"So if I need advice on girls I can go to you?"
The messaged left opened for a solid ten minutes before giving an open-ended response...
"I mean..."
Which to then he replied with a grateful picture of him smiling and a "Great, thanks!"
I was his bud... His friend.. When he asked me if I had a crush all I could say is "it's hella confusing" because I could never own up to liking him....
Not if it meant giving up our late night chats...
Because being his friend was better than being nothing...
With a night spent giving advice to him on a girl who he informed me rejected him, I pounder on how he couldn't like me...
The girl who stayed up with him...
The girl who was willing to toss all feelings aside for his happiness...
Not that he would know...
I was just the girl that would always be there for him...
The one to talk to when he got lonely...
The one who knew what it was like to get rejected, who was way to use to it...
The one who had to give up her feelings for a boy in order to see him happy.
It's not poetic...