Dear Noah,

Tick Tock

Dear Noah,

I rush to my phone at 11:00 pm,

the screen illuminating my face in my darkened room.

Your witty reply brings a smile to my face,

like the sun clearing away all the nighttime gloom.

And at that moment,

all I can think of is you.

The way I linger at your locker even after your footsteps disappear down the hall,

and you have no clue.

That there's a girl waiting

and crying

and hoping

and sighing

every single time you walk by.

And that girl is ...

me.

As you wrap a friendly arm around my best friend

who doesn't know you the way I do,

and all that time you idly spend

with her.

As my yearning eyes meet your eyes in a crowded room,

I know your yearning eyes were searching for her's.

And now I just assume

that she won the battle she didn't even know she was fighting for.

But my mind keeps going back

to those bright blue eyes,

those pools of beautiful icy blue that make my heart crack.

Shattered and beaten my heart sits,

waiting for your healing hands.

11:30 pm I receive a text

and three missed calls

and five voicemails.

She's broken your heart,

left you for dead.

And all those insecure thoughts,

you can't get them out of your head.

So you come crawling back to me.

Pleading for the advice of how to get her back,

praying for a way for her to see

that your heart is broken and needs to be mended.

Again not realizing that your cure is right in front of you.

Reluctantly I tell you how to get her back,

knowing she will only break your heart again.

I'm still too scared to admit to you,

the true cure.

I distance myself from you,

running to the bathroom every time you walk down the hall.

Trying to forget about your eyes, so blue,

trying to forget the way you always make me laugh,

trying to forget the way you always sit next to me in the cafeteria.

Trying to forget ...

But I still find myself typing in those six numbers to unlock my phone.

I find myself listening to those voicemails,

you left on my phone so long ago.

I find myself hoping.

Hoping I had the strength to tell you how I really feel.

But I don't.

And then a light emerges from the darkness.

You break up with her, claiming you lost feelings.

But everyone knows that's not the reason.

Our last and final late night.

Three texts.

You say you need to tell me something you haven't been able to get out of your head.

You need to talk about the way this mystery person makes you feel, how they drive you crazy.

And I instantly assume

that you're in love with her again.

I ask, who is this mystery person?

I wait as you reply.

Tick

Tock.

Tick

Tock.