Sitting at the edge of my seat. Every text sends me a little closer to the edge. I’m anticipating the fall. The fall has yet to come. One text. Two texts. Three texts. Four texts. Five texts. Delete texts three, four, and five. Send the sixth text. Four days eight hours since that first one. Four hours since that last one. She responds. One text. She responds. A day later one text. It’s been two days. No response. She hasn’t “seen” it. Am I supposed to feel like this? Aren’t girls supposed to feel this about boys. Aren’t I supposed to be boy crazy. I’m not crazy, I swear. I liked some boys. I liked some girls. This one though. I’m tumbling. Falling. Is there ground anywhere? I’m still falling. I fell off my seat. The question that hangs in the air yet to be answered.
Will she ever answer me?
The answer, though, is already known. She will answer me. Eventually. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t care for me. She isn’t falling for me like I’m falling for me. This whole situation is pointless. I’m left wondering day after day. Asking my brain the same question over and over again. Why Her?