I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I’m in history class, staring at the back of the room, and my notebook’s open in front of me, but I’m not really writing anything useful.
I’m just scribbling, drawing lines and stupid doodles in the margins, trying to distract myself. It’s not like I’m going to show anyone this, anyway. It’s dumb. I’m dumb. Writing this down like it’s going to change anything.
Eliot will never get me.
I don’t even know why I bother anymore. Every time I think about it, I just get this knot in my stomach. He’ll never feel the way I do. He’s way too busy with Oliver to notice me. It’s not like I’m the one who matters anymore.
I see them laughing together across the room like they’re in their own world. I try not to look, but I do. I can’t stop myself. They’ve got this thing between them, this... connection, and I’m just....what? Some shadow in the background?
I’m so tired of pretending it doesn’t bother me.
I’m just... so stupid. Why do I even care? He’s happy, right? He’s got everything he needs with Oliver. And I’m over here, writing this like it’s going to help. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
I’m dumb. I sound dumb. And he....he’ll never get it.
He’ll never look at me the way I look at him. I’m just some stupid friend he grew up with, nothing more. That’s all I’ll ever be. And maybe I’m okay with that. Or maybe I’m not. I don’t even know. I just...I just want him to look at me. Just once.
But writing it down? That’s not gonna help. He’s never going to see me like that.
I keep thinking, What if I just told him? What if I told him that I've missed him? But what’s the point? It’s not like he’d suddenly stop hanging out with Oliver and start hanging out with me again. It’d be weird. It’d be awkward. He’d just... laugh it off. Maybe even think I was messing with him.
So, here I am. Writing it all down like a loser, because what else am I supposed to do? Pretend it doesn’t hurt? Pretend I don’t feel like I’m losing him, bit by bit?
It’s stupid. I’m stupid.
I want to scream at myself for even thinking any of this. But then I look at them again Eliot and Oliver, laughing and talking like they’re in some movie and I can’t help it. It hurts.
I guess I just need to stop being an idiot and move on, right? But how do you move on from someone you’ve known your whole life? How do you just forget about it?
I don’t know what I’m even doing. This whole thing is just... so messed up.
Maybe I’m just tired of being invisible.
Maybe I’m just tired of pretending like it doesn’t matter.
But whatever. It doesn’t matter. It never will.
And I’ll be fine. I’ll get over it.
Eventually.
(Story Starts Next)
ns 15.158.61.20da2
