August 22, 2018
Have you ever had that feeling, the one you get when your can almost hear a song being played in the distance, and it makes you want to get just a little closer so you can make out the words? Your soft, barely-there smile gives me that feeling. I guess some people might call it intoxicating, but it's never been like that with you. I have enough anxiety laced throughout the rest of my life. I've never felt overwhelmed, my heart has never started racing, and this love has never driven me to insanity. When I see you, everything slows down and I can breathe easier.
I'm not drunk, you're not a drug, and I know exactly what I'm doing.
Do you remember that day, in elementary school, when the mean boy in our class read my songbook out loud to all his friends as recess? No, I guess you wouldn't. I was lucky that you were at home sick that entire week.
His name starts with an A,
His last a G,
I love him,
He doesn't love me
There wasn't even a question of who it was about. Everyone knew it was you.
But I got Izzie to steal the notebook back during reading extensions and by the time you came back to school, it was old news.
It was the year of moving on, for me. Mama started hearing voices that terrified both her and I. I realized that I was never going to be someone brave enough to talk to you, or to anyone really. I left all my feelings for you at the purple table in front of the school, the day before Izzie left.
It was last year that I realized I couldn't just expel my feelings via tears and leave them to water the grass under a rusted table. I was too busy to be thinking about you and your stupidly pretty eyes, but you didn't just disappear. You kept popping up in places I didn't want anyone. I re-evaluated my feelings about you when I found that I didn't mind the company.
Here's something that you really might remember; the day I cried outside the high school. It was a few months ago, sometime in March or April. I was on the phone, and you were putting your backpack into your car. I was on the phone with Mama, and she was telling me about a hallucination she'd had. I was tired and stripped bare and I felt so unbearably alone.
I didn't see you until after the tears had started sliding down my cheeks.
I suppose it's silly that I have all of these feelings, when I've never had a conversation with you. I wish I'd let myself know you when I had the chance. I wish I hadn't been too shy to talk to you, too nervous to be the person that I am, a person you might've even wanted to know more of.
With love,
Mariana
