We've been friends for a couple months now. A couple months of excited laughs, a couple months of carefree fun, and a couple months of lying straight to your face.
No matter how close to the edge your reassuring grin and warm, yet unnerving, eyes send me, somehow they'll never be enough to give me that final push to tell you the truth.
To tell you how I really feel. How, every second I'm with you, I feel as if time slows down to a nanosecond, and you're all mine.
Except you're not.
To this day, I'm still surprised that another boy, a man, hasn't yet stolen your heart. Sometimes I wonder about this. I wonder about how it's possible that a rarity like you hasn't been swept off your feet by someone with a better smile and better eyes than me. Someone better than me.
We're sitting in the café again. This time, we're in a booth, side-by-side. In front of you, you have a flat white, with an extra shot of espresso and two sugars. It's what you always order. You've only told me once, but to me, it's like my favourite song that I would be able to recite in my sleep.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as you take a sip from your cup. Although we're just friends and have been for an infinite amount of time, I still cherish you more than you'll ever know.
I look away before you see me staring.
Loving you is like chasing after a helium balloon with no limits. Regardless of how much energy I put into making you mine, you'll just keep drifting further and further away, until you're no more than someone I used to have fun with.
But is it really love? Or am I just a kid who doesn't know any better?
Not for the first time, I think about telling you everything. I think about ripping my heart out and showing you just how much it speeds up when you're near me. And if you break it, it'll be okay.
Because it's you.
You must've noticed my silence and uneasy posture, because you turn to face me.
"You okay?" You ask, with a concerned expression that just makes everything less okay.
Without thinking, I shake my head.
I'm going to tell you.
No regrets, remember?
I open my mouth, and nothing comes out. I'm starting to think this isn't such a grand idea.
I'm nearing the edge again. It's what you do to me. Do I really want to take the leap?
I attempt to calm myself down by taking deep breaths. Like trying to patch up a shirt with tape, it doesn't work.
Your worried gaze doesn't falter. You place your hand on mine, wrapping your fingers around my palm.
As I feel the hairs on my arm reach for the sky, I resist the overpowering urge to intertwine my fingers with yours.
"You can tell me anything. You know that, right?" You say, teasing me closer to the other side.
I'm balancing on the edge now. It's up to me whether or not I want to take the chance and jump off.
I jump.
