I could write so much about you. But it would all be meaningless, like what the weather was like here in London. Sometimes you talk to her, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you ignore me, and sometimes, just when I’m ready to let go and move on, you say something that makes my heart jump. Something like “Hi.” And everything I had been working on is reversed, and I start all over again.
Every day, it’s the same dream.
You Make Me Happy
Today, I realized. I realized that, even when you ignore me as we pass each other in the halls, I still get happy. Happy that you honor me with your presence, allow me to be in the same hallway as you. I know you couldn’t exactly kick me out, but yet I feel like you’re some kind of god.
Is this wrong? To bow down and worship you like this?
A Dream
Last night, I dreamt about you. In my dream, you passed me in the hallway. You ignored me. Just like you almost always do in real life. I know if I want you to say something to me, I should say something to you first.
You probably think that I just don’t like you. You don’t know that it’s just that I’m too shy. How could you? How could anyone? To all of you, I’m not, I’m just quiet. And that’s the impression I try to maintain.
I guess I do it a little too well.
hatenamelike 