Thoughts from a Fearful Mind

I wake up early, the sun only just peeking its cold rays over the buildings and splashing color on the dark campus. Yawning, I grab a towel and a change of clothes, walking numbly to the showers.

Heat, water, dry, change. All a slow, sleepy process.

I wake slightly.

I pick an outfit that compliments my curves, my hair, my skin. Put on makeup that makes me look older, more sophisticated, more noticeable.

I have to laugh; what else can I do?

I walk outside, the air biting my nose and stinging my lungs and making me feel alive. The sun, now smiling down at me, caresses my face like the hands of a parent, and I smile. How can I not?

I move with purpose, blasting music to keep my eyes open, my pace brisk to force me further awake.

But the sight of him cannot compare to any trick, a jolt to the system that sets my heart racing, my skin blushing, my mind clear. A smile spreads across my face, a silly grin I chastise myself for and try to hide as he gets closer.

He smiles, waves and calls my name, and I float.

Only to come crashing down once more as I watch him walk arm in arm with someone else.

You’re being cruel, I tell myself. Just let him go.

But how does one let something go that they never had in the first place?

All those little moments where you felt a spark, something special; how do you replace that as just imagination?

There’s still a chance-

I want to scream at myself for still having hope. I tell myself that was the last time, that he’s no more than a friend. That that’s more than enough.

Until I find myself waking and getting ready to see him once more.