What I felt for him was like a galaxy of longing. A galaxy filled with thoughts and scenarios that would never play out the way I wanted to; but a galaxy nonetheless. As he sat in the chair perfectly aligned with the wall, I wondered about every possible thing I could’ve said in that moment, but I said nothing. I sat on the floor in front of him, looking down at the floor. I thought about telling him so many things, but once again only silence escaped my lips. He stared intently at his homework on his lap. He looked up for one solemn moment and said “I need to tell you something,” and he started talking about his brothers and sisters and he told me how he loved me and at that moment in time, anything he said after that was irrelevant. When he finished speaking, I said, “I love you too,” with a glimmer in my eye and the smallest smile on my lips. His face dropped, and I realized he didn’t mean it the way I did. I quickly added, “As a good friend though,” trying not to look surprised or saddened. But it was too late, and I was sitting there on the floor trying not to show my emotions. “I didn’t mean it that way, I don’t like you like that. I didn’t think you would take it that way; it’s why I said it after I mentioned my brother and sister. I meant it in a family way. I’m sorry.” I stared at him for the longest time, questioning the different things I could say to him to make him feel better; I came up with nothing. I hated that feeling; I hated that feeling so much I hate it when I want to say something but I cant, because I cant think of anything to say, because the words get thick in my throat and every single nerve in my body is telling me not to say it. I hate it when you don’t know what to say and all that’s left in the room is the empty silence. I hate it so much.
❦
I called him a week after the incident and asked him if he had anything to do.
“I cant do anything this week, I’m really busy sorry.” There was a moment of silence before I answered him, “Oh…” I didn’t mean to sound sad, but I did, and he knew why. He got angry with me, and he told me to stop. He told me to stop trying to make things happen that wont, to stop wasting time over someone that doesn’t feel the same towards you as you do to them, to stop making scenarios in my head, to stop wanting someone that didn’t want you, to stop waiting. And I hung up the phone, and I did. I stopped. I stopped doing all of that; and I ran. I ran through my neighborhood and thought about all of the things I should let go of. I ran through the meadows and the valley and the creeks until I had nothing left to think about. And I got a lot of things done that day; I pulled my life back together.
I had a dream somewhat similar to this piece of writing so it inspired me to to make this.