It’s been two years. Wishing for that one thing, two years. And yet, feels just like two months.
I have distracted myself from you, and thought that maybe I had forgotten. I’m guessing I was wrong.
It has been two summers ago, since I have seen those eyes. Along with that single, particular, smile. Yet, I still feel like I saw those every day.
And for one year, I did.
It never failed to melt me every single time.
But I’ve convinced myself they were not for me.
Of course. I had been all my life like a shadow, why does anyone – and especially that dazzling one – would look twice to such a dark presence? Such an ugly presence.
In the end of fairy-tales, the beast would transform himself into a beautiful prince. But in life, that would never happen to me. I would be always the ugly little duck, who would never grow into a beautiful swan.
I could – and should – never hope that he might, even for one misery second, look at me as I looked at him.
But yet, some things made me grasp on the hope that I should’ve never considered.
Like one day. You stood at my side, although there were plenty of spaces to sit in the other corner, with people who you talked and knew much better than me.
And you seemed so anxious. Like you wanted to start a conversation with me, but dared not, fearing something invisible. – and incomprehensive to me, seeing that I was too afraid to even look at you. – And you waited, apprehensively, until you felt like defeated. You turned and walked away to sit with your friends, that were sitting a bit farther from our location. The moment you stood in front of them – whom were watching the whole scene – they could not help themselves, and before you could muster any word, they laughed hysterically.
Were my imagination, or you were just as nervous as me? Maybe could it be for the same reason?
I know, I should not fantasy such things. And, most likely, I’m seeing too much in which was, probably, a trivial episode.
However, I like to think that you could see something special inside me. The ‘specialness’ that I’m whishing for someone who could find inside me, since I was born.
How I wish I was worth of you. I really do.
And maybe, perhaps once, you could’ve thought that I was. Oh, I only wish.
You should have just said you’re simply gay, and that would easy my agony. But no! You had to announce vigorously that you were not. Making my hopes and fears become too great for me to move.
Maybe if I was sure that you were gay, I wouldn’t have minded, and I could have had the guts to come close to you. Or maybe not.
But one thing is for sure: I have not forgotten you.
Have you forgotten about me?
Having stupid fantasies,
~Vanny
