It is so difficult. I am not a mind reader, I only know what I want not what someone else wants. How am I supposed to know that she wanted me to kiss her. How do I know anything at all.

. . .And indeed there will be time

She has texted me every night for three months.  We've read so many horrible teen romance novels that  I thought I was going insane.  And the worst part of it all was that she made me read them all aloud. ******* aloud. I hated reading aloud. She made me overcome my fear. She told me that I had a great voice and that I should be a radio show host.

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to ****** and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;

I'm sitting in this car half ******, half drunk. I am 15.  I am a freshman. She is 18.  She is a senior. I'm sitting here and everything is spinning but the only thing that is remaining still is her face. Especially her eyes. They have a glow to them that I cannot describe. She is wonderful in this artificial lighting. It is three am. My mother told me to be home at nine thirty so that I would have plenty of sleep for school on Monday.

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

All those ****** ******* books, they were all so bad. The Twilight Series, that was torture. But I can recall reading one book that was so powerful to me at that fragile time in my life. The Perks of Being a Wall Flower. That book was so powerful too me. I connected so well to that Charlie. I thought at that time that Charlie was me. I was Charlie. And I knew his pain beyond anyone else's understanding of that character. I was him as he was me. I knew what it was like to love a girl who didn't love you.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

Now it is three fifteen in the morning.  I am so tired, so drowsy.  AND THE NERVE OF THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL.  She prevents me from nodding off.  She places her hand on my thigh and asks me if I've ever been in love, to which I quickly reply, "I do not know what love is, so how could I have been in something that I am unaware of?"  She then laughs in my face, saying that I am funny.  I don't  think I'm funny,  I never did and I never will. But she does. I don't know why, maybe she is trying to ****** me, how am I supposed to know, I am not a mind reader.  

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

Once we finished Perks, things were odd.  It was as though I'd just read her my diary.  If I had gone through that book and changed a few names this would have been true.  So I don't know about her, and I probably never will, but as for myself I was beat red with embarrassment. I felt as though she now knew everything, she knew my ins and outs, she knew the inner workings of my heart.  I was so exposed, my emotions were so naked and evident.  And I felt like she knew that I loved her then, but she wasn't Sam therefore she didn't love me, I knew she did not.  We had practically just read my published diary.  It was horrible. I was so scared.  

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

I've got this crazy idea. I know what to do. Girls like it when boys make the first move right? So I know what to do, I will just lean in to kiss the girl! But wait, she is much older than I am. She has had much more experience with guys, right? So if she wanted to kiss me she would just lean in and do it.  I am so unsure, what the hell is going on? Why did she even invite me to hang out with her?  I hate the way I feel when I'm in her presence.  She is so mature and beautiful and I am so . . . not.  I don't get why she even wants to see me.  But oh god, I do want to see her, she is gorgeous! THOSE LIPS! I've got to do it. All I have to do is lean in and touch my lips to hers. It is that simple.  

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

It is 9th period, I used to have off then. I would sit with my three friends and her.  At some point we decided, the girl of my dreams and myself, that I would take her to prom. This was very odd because at that time I was in sophomore and she was a senior. So the planning commenced and we began to hangout more and more. Eventually we made mutual friends with Patrick.  He is now my best friend. But her stole love from me.

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the ****-ends of my days and ways?
               And how should I presume?

I failed.  I didn't kiss her.  The pressure is too much.  I cannot bear it. This pressure to kiss a girl that I've kindred feelings for so long, it is unfathomable. How am I expected to do such a task with such little prior experience? She should have kissed me first, I wish she had. It would have been wonderful. I know it would of been. Now she is tired so she asks if I want to go home. I do not want to go home, not one bit, but  promptly say, "Yeah, it is getting really late." So we're off back to my house. We finally arrive and just as I  get out she says something under her breath. I ask her what it was she said, and she tells me. She tells me and it breaks my little heart. She said, "I wish you would have kissed me, that would have made this night perfect. I am dead.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
               So how should I presume?

Prom was a horrible time for me.  I pretended to be happy.  At that time my happiness was dependant on making others feel good, on making others happy.  It was an unfortunate turn of events for me, in hindsight. By some divine intervention our plans to go to prom were abolished.  Patrick was the new candidate to take her to prom.  But she didn't want to disappoint me so I was still invited to go. Then there were three, the three of us would go to prom as a trio. And that was the most awkward thing ever.  Everyone who encountered me would ask things such as, "Hey JohnMichael, funny seeing you here. You're a sophomore why are you at the senior prom, who are you here with." I would either walk away or laugh at those comments, I didn't feel like explaining my horrid situation to anyone who did not already know.  It finally ended. I was tired from dancing with myself and being alone. Patrick and my love were of course hitting it off who knows where, I kept them out of sight the entire time. I didn't even go home with them, I had my cousin pick me up early, he lived surprisingly close to the hall.  Once I go home I cried and cried and smoked more cigarettes than fathomable.  I was a wreck and everyone knew it, my mom, my dad, my brother, even the dog.  They didn't question anything. I felt like Charlie. He understood me because he was me at the time. I was him.  I knew what it felt like to love someone who didn't love you, as did he. He knew my trials and tribulations.  

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Quotes provided from:
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"  by T.S. Eliot