Back to the Old House

Lalalalalalal cant hear you

Everyday after the suns light came through windows and birds chirped, communicating to one another, a boy played his guitar, soft strumming and a gentle voice ricocheted off the walls of his room.

He didn't like living in his old house. All he could think about was the arguments that rose up after dark. He'd go days without eating and only had his guitar to keep him busy.

It was almost as if it was his entire world. When he'd cook himself breakfast in the morning, he'd think about a new song, new lyrics. Afternoons were no different when he watched tv or read his books that he took the time to organize at dawn. It was even all he thought about before he went to bed.

One day in his old house, he decided to play his guitar on his porch, not thinking anything of it. A girl new to the neighborhood cycled by. At first, he didn't think anything by it. It wasn't until everyday he saw her cycle by, seemly coming by slower and slower, he started to think she was listening.

Sure, all kinds of people were always listening to him play, but not all of them seemed to pay attention as much as she did. He started going outside more, hoping she'd keep coming by.

For a few months, it continued on. She started to walk by, waving to him and impressed by his talent, he knew that. He didn't know exactly how he felt about her, they just met after all. Deep down in his heart, he knew something was there. That when she cycled by those few months ago, all his dreams began.

His thoughts about his guitar were replaced with the image of her smile burned into the very front of his head. He felt like every time he talked to her, friends had written in giant words on his forehead "I think you're beautiful."

He didn't just admire her looks, he admired her kindness and humor. He played his guitar even more now that he felt like he had to impress her, to make her see that he was talented and worth paying attention to.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, she stopped biking that route. He'd look for her and play, but she never came by. He wondered if she moved away, panic rising and a churning feeling came from his chest.

Everyday felt worser and worser for him. His friends did their best to cheer him up but the fact that he never got to confess his feelings was replaying in his mind. Every time she'd look at him, he'd look away with a slight blush on his face.

He didn't like the house he used to live in, there was too many horrible memories he wish he could've already forgotten, but all those things he'd go through again just to see her. He wished to hear her voice once more, even if all he'd ever have was his guitar again.

Sorry idk I wrote this at like 2am😭😭