Why won’t you look at me? I mean just once feeling your familiar gaze so I know that I am not crazy, so I know that you are thinking about me too. Does it get hard for you to act like nothing ever troubled you? Did you even hurt like when your tires and the outline of your car speeding out of view? Did I matter? Even better did I get erased like a bad memory, pushed to the back of the mind without a second thought.
I watch you work quietly. You don’t notice me looking, you never do. I reached out to grab my pencil not for the work but to write something on a small piece of paper I ripped off the homework. The words I have wanted to say for so long stay stuck in my mind, as a result the scrap stays blank. Sharp breath escapes my lips as the pain I have desperately trying to push down bubbles up.
I can’t just write everything down and hope that you don’t hate me enough not to read it. Even if I did write all of the words I couldn’t say on the bit of paper, I do not want to interrupt your work. The reasons pile up along with the anxiety that comes with them.
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