[Here's a little ditty I penned in Creative Writing today:]
I was so... idiotic. I mean, the simplest thing in the world and my heart beamed and nudged my clavicle with its elbow and said, "Hey. Did you catch that? Did you see him?"
But what of it? I don't happen to make eye-contact with people, meaning for them to see the underlying message that I wish this distance of our friendship were merged closer by the closeness of our hearts. I look to be looking; I let my eyes rove. And if they stop on someone, all it is is that they've stopped; nothing more.
But because it was him and it was me he'd stopped at...
I slumped my face to my hand. Idiot. Honestly.
The hopeful notion of my own immature mind does not mean what he intended--completely unconsciously--as a roving eye observing his fellows was truthfully meant to mean "I haven't really admitted this aloud to anyone, but I look at you and can't stand that you're not with me."
I let my head drift to the desk. Idiot. Honestly.
How many times? How many times will I go through life believing mere glances are promises and vows of forever? How many times? How many times will I fall for my self-deception and find myself not only without a seemingly loving glance, but without a simple expression of friendship as well?
How long will it take me to figure out my emotion is reflected in his eyes only because eyes, superficially, are mediocre mirrors of life: the reflection distorted and untrue.