Now look up. Yes. You see this guy sitting across you at the table, quietly staring at you as you look right through him and space out? You've grown up haven't you? Your pimples have long said goodbye, your beautiful eyes and tank tops are as black as the blackboard but nowhere near flat. You are used to people forgetting where your eyes are. Yes, you aren't that girl anymore. You had to evolve. But this guy in front of you, when he talks to you he looks at you and only you. He doesn't call you babe. He doesn't make excuses to hold your hands or touch your bare back. His eyes are always fixed on yours. That makes you uncomfortable doesn't it? I bet it does. You are not used to this. You're scared. You suddenly remember something and you pull out your notebook to jot down the poem you have been working on in your head all this time. Realizing that you have forgotten your pen, you ask him for one. He pulls out a ballpoint and you smile a thank you and at that moment you notice how he smiles back. You open your notebook wondering if this could be it. It might not be. But somewhere along the line you forgot that you were meant for so much more than you gave yourself credit for. You made yourself so busy to keep the bad dreams away that somewhere along the way, you gave up the good ones. Yes, you never lost sight of your goals. But your dreams? What happened to the sixteen year old who dreamt of Paris and Africa & polaroids of herself with a guy who made her laugh in the photographs, not just smile? Did you kill her to become the woman you are today? Or is she still there somehwere, in a quiet corner, scribbling childish poetry at the back of her maths copy? Why does this guy make you want to open the windows of that room, set your sixteen free again? " Your coffee is getting cold. " His voice is gentle and soft, with a tinge of humour. How long has it been since you felt that funny feeling inside you? You know the one I am talking about right? Hey, it's okay. If this doesn't work out, you'll be fine. You're strong. But just for once, for once, please, stay a little. Stay a little longer. Give love a chance. Maybe, just maybe, it won't let you down..
They don't write about girls like you do they?
I mean, look at you.
You never made it to the first bench because that girl who topped your class took up all the space with her heavy bag. You were nowhere near the last bench because you were never that into those guys who slept through history and made out with their girlfriends during biology. You were somewhere between third last and the one before that, sitting in your quiet corner listening to the sound of sixty four whispers creating a chaotic buzz. You could never make friends, you sat with that mean girl who you were sure you overheard one day laughing at your skirt, how it hung below your knees. Remember that boy who asked for a pen one day? You were so nervous yet so surprised that he remembered your name, you couldn't even find a pen in time, not before someone else gave it to him and he smiled that gorgeous smile and thanked her. You could have had it. But you didn't. Remember that day you were called up in class to solve a math problem and you thought you heard someone say ' flat as that blackboard ? '. Remember how you cried that night? Remember when your mother came into your room and found you face down on your pillow, asked you what was wrong, you told her to get lost? Remember that night? When you lost a friend? Do you remember that guy, your first boyfriend, how he called you babe and gave you roses on Valentine's ? Remember the disappointment and the disgust on his face when you were crying because he wanted you to go down on him, in his friend's empty dingy apartmetn? Or the other guy, you fell madly in love with, stayed in love with for six fucking years. Remember how he hooked up with your best friend and it felt like... no, you don't talk about that do you?
Image : tumblr
Late post, but let me know what you think! Thank you!!
»All it Takes is a Little Communication«
A mother asked her son where he wants to go
He said that he didn’t know how far his road will lead
She rest her hand on his shoulder and began to smile
They sat down and became open for some time
Some tears were gave and hiccuped sobs were leaked
At the end they hugged and spoke their love
Days of hardship with regretful recollections are no longer repaved