I was in a field full of daffodils.
They weren't my favourite flower but they were pretty.
I always wondered what you thought of them? And What you thought of me?
I liked this boy, his features were almost delicate and he wasn't incredibly popular but he wasn't in the background?
If he noticed someone who needed help, he'd help them.
He'd smile at anyone he noticed.
And he did it purely because he cared, because he wanted to see people happy.
So why didn't he notice me?
Why didn't he care about me?
It kind of hurt...
I had the courage to talk to him.
"Hey, um you didn't hand me the homework"
It wasn't much but it was something.
He turned to face me. His eyebrows furrowed.
He placed the sheets on the table and walked away.
It's like I did something wrong which made him hate me.
As he was about to leave class he turned back
"You're vile"
It probably shouldn't have affected me.
But he didn't know me, so why did he hate me?
Either way, it happened to be enough to affect me.
I noticed that I was just in the background, I was vile to look at.
I was vile to talk to. It was me, I was the problem.
I was no longer in a field of daffodils but a field of graves with a single daffodil on my grave.
The daffodil was off him.
Because he saw me in the field of daffodils.
He thought I liked them as much as he did.
Because he loved daffodils.
Why did he call me vile?
He didn't.
I made it up.
He really did hand me the homework, he did smile, he didn't call me vile but told me good luck.
Overthinking really did get me nowhere...
[I totally just made this up in the spot and it wasn't meant to be this deep]
