Voices Off Camera

one - infatuation

My tense varies so much but I can't be bothered to edit it and nobody will probably read this anyway. Welcome to my story.

Tuesday afternoon was when I began to feel as though my world was crumbling into nothingness. Throughout the day I had prayed hard that she was on the train and hoped that my observations of her catching it only every second Tuesday were correct as this was assumed by myself to be the day that she'd accompany me on my ride home. Leading up to the ride home it was a seemingly good day at school for me as English was in the morning and this was the class that I had been assigned next to her. In English we would engage into none to excessive amounts of conversation depending on the day and it's atmosphere. The complexity of the things she wrote and said amazed me until I grew to become oppressed by a state of infatuated love. On this particular day we talked an average amount, but that was good enough for me - and my personal outcome of the minimal interaction I had with her on this day was nothing but pure happiness. It was enthralling how she alone determined how I would feel at the end of the day and the way it was maintained in my mood. And when I saw her enter the train carriage that afternoon I reminded myself that I was extremely lucky. Her name is Lanie but the persona she carries with her isn't accurately reflected in her name. The name Lanie alone reminds me of butterflies and happy things but Lanie herself is so much more valuable than that. I know that she will sit with her friends until they get off the train and all that's left is just her and myself, but I hope she sits relatively close to me. I can hear them talking from about 3 seats back but I don't want to find out the precise number because that could involve making eye contact with her, and the longing in my eyes that would stare back at her could potentially give away the fact that I am deeply in love with her. She's talking about another boy and my disappointment has reached a point so beyond tears that they are restricted from surfacing my eyes which she once told me were a shade of pale blue. From what I can hear he likes her and she describes this situation as "too good to be true" which I believe is a mediocre statement and the deep person she used to be would come up with a description far better. He is a popular boy. She wouldn't be considered level with his popularity on the social hierarchy of our school as she prefers to surround herself with less materialistic friends - but people have begun to notice that she is very beautiful which makes her well liked by all. When her friends left the train I could hear her begin to pick up her things and shuffle over to the seat next to me. She sits herself down happily and smiles at me. I examine the beauty of her dark complexion. Dark skin and chocolate brown hair, the body of a woman rather than the girl she was that was admired by most other boys had developed at a time post to when I fell in love with her.
"Got yourself a boyfriend, huh?" I said playfully when she sat down, hiding my disappointment with a smirk. Only I knew about the shaking of my body and the pain in my chest.
"Maybe," She grinned. How did she not have the slightest idea that the idea of her not loving me gave me more wounds than any other tragedy ever could?
As we departed the train station and separated towards our homes I thought about how everything I hated about myself was absolutely perfect on her. Why did I expect the feelings I had for her to be returned? She liked a popular boy and I was just Jay. There were so many things wrong with me but that was the consequence I had to pay when all of the worlds' good qualities had been handed to her. She was my everything and I was just her old best friend that she talked to on the train from time to time.