I don't know what drew me to him. Maybe his height; how he's so tall when he stands. Or his face; how it's always strict and serious when it rests. Perhaps it's the way he walks and talks or how he's so confident that he seems arrogant. The way he sits down low in a seat with his knees out. Or maybe when he smells good and I can be in that scent from the dead of night 'til morn. It could be how he inhales and exhales the same air I breathe that draws me in. Something superficial. Right?
I don't need to tell him. I already know what he's going to say. And...I know that there is no point in saying anything just for him to take my words and use them as communal hilarity. And even though I know he will do this; I only want a rejection. An official spurn so that I can move on. But I guess he did reject me. A silent repudiation. And I wanted it. Only, I wanted it to be loud. I wanted him to hurt me. Hurt my feelings and be cruel to me just like the way he knows how to best. I wanted him to get the message to my brain that I was never going to be the light in his eyes. Not ever. And I was never going to be the one to make him smile a smile that makes his face look naturally ebullient and his eyes scintillate. Never to be the one to cause his hands to tremble and his heart to race the speed of sound. Never. Just the one he looks upon with dull eyes. I know how he really feels, and I have met with his emotions, but I need him to say it. I need him to let me down like I've always been. I need him to say he doesn't choose me, like I never have been. All those mixed signals that's given me hope, those ineffectual smiles and measures that cause my heart to everglow. They are just the value of a penny for him. But for me, oxygen itself. But he seems to live in space, so my needs aren't his own. He'll never need me to smile at him a smile that burns his face. Never need me to look at him with eyes that throw off the rhythm of his beating heart or a laugh that tickles up his throat and cracks his smile. Never need my hands to run through his hair to calm his mind. He has to say it. Say he doesn't need it. Or I will always have these feelings. These unrequited feelings I adore.
I don't know why I'm drawn to him. It couldn't be how I love the way he hates me. The way he wouldn't give a single utterance to me or the way he loathes being in the same free space. The way he picks me after last. The way he disdains me. How he stares me down with soft daggers that make me wonder─the way he can't stand it anymore; the sight of me. How we'd talk personal conversations that our colleagues would know by shifts end. When he'd speak sweet words with rotten intentions. How he throws my name to the ground and rips it through the dirt. The way he calls me "Best Friend" just for him to go silent for two winters. But when he calls me "Best Friend" and he smiles at me...I believe him. I was a fool and I had duped myself into thinking he was what I wanted him to be. I should have known. The way he says I'm entertainment and future convenience. I should have known. The way he smiles when he angers me and laughs when I cry. I should have known. When he ignores me when I speak. It couldn't be any of this.
No...It must be because of my inconsistent childhood of countless transfers and an innumerable amount of new ceilings. No. A childhood of revolting, uncharitable smells that made other kids never dare to touch me. Never dare to voice a word towards my corner. Maybe because of my overweight body and baggy clothes with shoes that passed years ago. How my lunch was free and I couldn't get seconds. How I was hungry and begged classmates for leftovers on their trays. No. It must be the way they teased and discarded me for my lack of conformity. How I craved their curiosity and pleaded to be favored, but they chose me only after the last. They wouldn't share the same free space as me...The way they would take my name, my feelings, and humanity, and throw them to the ground where their feet stomp. The way my pain was their entertainment. How they smiled and laughed at my cries─how they hated me.
I don't know why I'm drawn to him. Maybe it's because he's such a reflection of a door that hadn't closed. I was optimistic in thinking that I could finally get the reciprocation I so badly desiderate. To no avail, I find myself gone with my thoughts of these painful memories. Memories that make me wonder if he misses me when I'm not there or if he carries on as if I had never written my name under "Contents" in his book. Or did he rip my chapter out? I don't know why I'm so drawn to him, but the truth is, he is not drawn to me. So, that door stays open, and I await the next person to walk through.
