I met her sitting next to a friend of mine, and I guess she seemed nice, too. We began talking, and later in the year we had a class together. So we started talking more, and the other friend, her, and I became closer friends. School friends, nothing more, but good friends.
She was from a different friend group, I didn't see her often, but I found myself looking forward to just hearing her talking. I didn't know why, or maybe I didn't want to, but I liked her a lot. I guess I seemed nice and trustworthy, because she told me the things she wouldn't tell anyone else.
I found myself looking in her direction even if she wasn't looking it mine. I found myself wanting to be around her more. She didn't think she was pretty, and I didn't hesitate to tell her she was beyond beautiful. It crossed my mind that I didn't think I had any other friends quite that beautiful.
It suddenly came to mind why I always wanted to be around her, to get lost in her words. Why I thought she was so beautiful, irresistible. I had a crush on her.
Well, shit. That wasn't supposed to happen.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
