Sunday, January 24, 2010
"I wish I could tell you how you make me feel. That every time someone says your name, even if they talk about another person, there is a thump in my stomach. Or that when you call me, or we talk on the phone, and you beg me not to hang up, my heart speeds up and I smile. Or that when you hold my hand in the dark, drunk as you were, I never wanted to let go. Or that when you tell me, drunk again, how happy you are that you have me, and how kind I always am, I want to tell you how I feel. I really wish I could tell you.
I want you to know that I often look for you at school. You might not notice, but sometimes I do. I try to talk to you when I see you, or at least show you that I’m there and want your attention. I really just want to talk to you more, like we used to. A few years ago I think you might have been my best friend. I still want that. I want to be able to watch movies like we did. Scary ones, so I could sit closer to you, or sometimes even hold your hand. And you were holding mine."
I want you to know that I often look for you at school. You might not notice, but sometimes I do. I try to talk to you when I see you, or at least show you that I’m there and want your attention. I really just want to talk to you more, like we used to. A few years ago I think you might have been my best friend. I still want that. I want to be able to watch movies like we did. Scary ones, so I could sit closer to you, or sometimes even hold your hand. And you were holding mine."
Sabrina, 5:32 AM.
