Days and weeks pass.
Your talk begins to tire me.
I begin to notice that our conversations are mostly supported by questions I ask, about your day, your classes, your friends, your performances; I don't remember more than two questions you asked me in return.
You don't seem to know much to talk about except band.
I stop to hang out with my friends at the school library one lunch. We laugh, poke fun at each other, push and shove and argue jokingly.
When the warning bell rings, I steal one last bite of one of their lunches and join the crowd to class, lighthearted.
YOU ARE READING
Playback
RomanceSome days, I want to hold on to you, any part of you, lean on you and borrow your warmth. Others, I'm content just knowing you exist in my life. Playback to all the minutes and moments I spend with you. == © aster 2018
