Hopeless

Types & A Stopping Heart

Why do people have types? They seek certain traits in someone in order to see if they are compatible. I mean, I guess I'm only saying that because I don't know what mine is. I can recall four crushes I've had altogether. All of them are different in some way: the first one taller and dark hair, the next about a head shorter but also dark-haired, the next tanned with dark hair and the current one blonde and short. I guess I have certain traits for personalities, though, but everyone has the same ones, or at least I have the common kind, funny guy type. 

Anyways, I'll just describe the first time I felt my heart stop(fortunately, not literally) a few months ago.

It was the middle of the class period and as a very smart and responsible student, I was just casually doing my work. 

Okay, before we continue, I guess I should've mentioned that this boy and I sit right next to each other.

I finished some work and decided to roll my head back(because there was no wall for me to lean on besides me). I closed my eyes because there was a blinding beam of light above me. 

Not even a minute later I start hearing someone say," Hey, you."

I recognized the voice(as my crush's) because he sat diagonally from my seat(one to my left and one behind me) but I didn't think much about it because there was this kid behind me that he talked to sometimes. 

"Hey, you, there." He urged again.

I opened my eyes after feeling someone tap my left shoulder lightly. I blinked as I saw him looking at me. I felt my heart start to pound and my face heat up a little.

If he asks why my face is red I can always say it was hot...a-and if he can hear my heart pounding then I can say I got scared because of him.

"What was your name again?" He asked.

I felt my heart stop. The butterflies stopped fluttering. A spark of disappointment and another feeling I haven't felt before filled my veins.

"It's 0000 (Not trying to expose my friend here)," I responded, hiding the heartbreak I felt inside.

He nodded with a smile." Oh, right 0000. Can I borrow a pencil?"

I only took my spare pencil out of my case and handed to him before turning back to my work, the terrible still in my stomach.

(I'll just say, I felt really bad for my friend when she finished telling me this that same day. She also told me she felt that way for the rest of the day and can still feel it sometimes.)