You sit next to me, unaware that my stomach is churning due to the intense bolts of electricity that I feel passing between the small space that separates us.
It makes my heart ache more knowing that you don't feel it, and you never will.
The words I want to say to you are stuck in my brain, and I recite them in my head one last time before I dare to say them aloud to you.
I try hard not to start thinking of how I hope you will react. I have dreamed of that scenario too many times already.
You have no idea how your smile haunts me in my dreams, and how it pains me to know that mine does not appear in yours.
I block out what you are saying, and take one last breath before I ask, "Can I tell you something?"
You are concentrating on your Play Station game, and reply, "Sure," without looking away from the TV screen.
The words have to fight to get out of my mouth, and I know I am stuttering, trying to hold the words back.
My frantic brain tries to think of something else to tell you, anything else. But I know that there is no going back now. The words then roll off my tongue, as I had imagined they would.
"When I was little…" I started off, making out like I was over it. Though that could not be farther from the truth.
After that, the words kept coming out, like mouth diarrhoea. And I end my confession, with a fake reassurance to both you and me, "...but I'm over it now, it was a long time ago."
You know me too well and we both know I am a bad liar.
For once Ihope you won't notice.
I can't look at you whilst I'm talking. I can't bear to see the expression on your face or look in your eyes; for fear that I might see something other than what I want to see.
"Really?" you say, with a puzzled expression on the face that has preoccupied my mind since forever.
"Yeah," I sigh, forcing a smile, and feeling like my insides are being carved out with a knife. I clutch my middle in an attempt to stop the throbbing that hurts more than anything I've ever felt.
My arms and legs start to shake as I explain to you, and I concentrate with all my might to keep them still, hugging my legs with my arms so tightly they hurt. We joke around for a while.
There are so many things I've wanted to say to you, and I want to say them all at once.
"Whoa, that's, erm, weird," you chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. All thoughts of telling you how I still feel are crushed. What started out as a confession has turned into a confusion.
For the first time since we've known each other, we are both trapped in an awkward silence. I know you can't find the right words to say to me, as you glance at me every so often.
We alter our body positions trying to kill the awkwardness. You are now lying down next to me, propped up against pillows, very laid-back and calm. Whilst my heart is screaming to tell you I still love you. But I know I can't.
My head and my heart fight an epic war inside my body as I talk to you, laughing and joking. But play-fighting with you only makes the tiny broken pieces of my once-whole heart shatter even more.
"This is awkward," your soft-spoken words shatter the quietness.
I wish you could understand that I don't want your pity. Your kindness only hurts me more.
You can never understand how much this has hurt me, and how I pictured this moment so differently.
"It is," however we are sitting here talking about how strange all this is.
I know I was only a kid, and as you said, I had "messed up hormones". But 'til this day I have never gotten over it on little bit, and I can only hope that one day I might find someone that can make me forget you.
And maybe one day I'll tell you the truth.