I pushed you away again.
Your love was wild and immature.
A daring feeling, a challenge I was scared to face.
How badly I longed to give you a chance.
To find you one day, after we've grown.
You were utterly relentless.
I feel now you saw me as a prize to be won, and yet you stood your ground.
Your infatuation grew, and for each 'no' given, you fought for a 'yes', and then ninety-nine more.
The longer I refused, the more you knew.
You discovered a part of yourself, a new and independent man.
You discovered yourself in a previously unfound light.
And with a new self, you found new interests.
Ones who are smarter, prettier, way-less-sarcastic than me.
You realized I wasn't your only option.
And it hurt you, but you let me go.
You moved on.
Your friends whispered little things to me.
It nearly killed you to see me at school.
Having to remind yourself that you were done chasing me.
That you wouldn't fight for me anymore.
You knew that I was never going to love you back.
As ironic as it is, I never did hate you the way it seemed.
Somehow, I fell for you too.
You thought I didn't love you.
Oh how wrong you were.
I did.
But I'd never tell you.
