Behind These Hazel Eyes

I sat on the floor with my school lunch. I pondered it silently.

I don't really want to eat this, I thought, procrastinating that first fatal bite.

I was pulled partially from my thoughts when I vaguely recognized a voice. It pricked its way delicately through the clouded walls of my mind. I grew attentive to it; subconsciously I turned to the source.

And there he stood, his eyes reaching out to me through his current conversation. The world dropped for the two of us as our eyes met. His were opened, pleading, sending me a message only mine could read. "Why did you go?" They asked me, "Please come back. I miss you." They insisted. "I really cared for you." And perhaps I saw for but a moment, "I love you."

I turned away, again without conscious thought, hoping one of these days his eyes will take the time to read mine; they tell him, as they have for quite some time now, that I'm not believing his anymore.