15 February 2013
Again, based on people I know and such but not true. Following on from "Valentines Day", as requested by @minxyMolly ------------------------
You got on my bus again today. The day after the cruelest day. The day after valentines day.
You got on the bus. You didn't sit by me, although you were alone, and went to get the seat by the stairs.
Why did you do that? Why?
I got a text after. From you. How did you get my number? Of course I knew. It was her. She probably wouldn't want to give it up but she did. She did.
You must have gone through a lot. You didn't have her number. You probably asked your best friend for her number off his girlfriend.
That would've been long. And you'd have to wait. The whole time.
Your eyes never touch me. You never looked at me. Never stole a glimpse. So why? Why now do I feel your eyes boring down on me?
A dare and now this. You looking at me. Staring after me like a lost puppy. Regret thick on your face. Why?
So many questions running through my mind. So many tears cried. Yet you text me. You did.
"Turn around. F." Simple. Short. I wouldn't have known it was you if she hasn't text first. "F is asking for your number. Do I give it to him? I'm gonna give it to him cos you need to sort this out."
Did we need to sort this out? We did. I couldn't lie to myself.
I was tempted to. Turn round, I mean. But I didn't. And then people got off at the train station and you jumped up and sat on the seat across the isle from me. With me in your sights.
You nearly tripped. That was so funny! It brought a smile to my face but I wiped it off before you saw. Didn't think I saw, did you?
You text me again. "Look at me. F."
I didn't but you moved to the chair beside you, closer to me. Should I move or let you come to me? I didn't have to think that question over really because you were beside me before I even blinked.
"Don't reply to texts now?" You asked. "Nope, apparently not" Was my answer.
I did usually. And usually as soon as I got the text. I can't leave a text with no reply. That's just not me. Even if someone says "don't reply", my fingers itch to reply.
You took my hand. On the bus. Just took it and held it between yours. They were soft, surprisingly, but they were warm too. It felt ... Nice ...
To have someone hold my hand.
I pulled back, however, because I was still mad. Still upset. Still heartbroken.
Heartbroken? I was in pieces and I looked a mess. Pale, well more than usual, and it looked like I had panda eyes. Lack of sleep that was, mixed with tears and the prospect of more to come.
"Stop doing this. Please. I can't take it anymore." Everything was just taking its toll on me.
Then you looked at me with those green eyes. Like you were about to say something really important but I never got to hear it.
The Day After V-Day • Opuss № I