To The Boy I Don't Like
I know you don’t understand this, but my heart thinks about you literally every second when I’m not talking with you.
Don’t worry, my heart is thinking of nothing but you when talking with you too.
It’s literally always thinking about you.
I know you don’t know this because late night facetime calls with flirty hair flips and low whispers and dim lighting give away nothing of the beating heart trapped in my chest and all the metaphors I am writing looking at your half lit face and that half smile.
I will never tell you how much I truly like you.
I’ll pretend I have my life together.
I’ll pretend I don’t care about you while simultaneously checking your snapmap location and checking your story on Instagram and Snapchat and checking when you read my last text message.
My last text message was read at 11 pm.
It is now Midnight.
It is now 1 am.
It is now 2 am.
It is now 3 am.
I sit around trying to convince myself that this horrible movie is worth “watching” while my eyes are glued to my phone screen, growing red in hopes of seeing your name pop up with that tiny little “ping” making my heart go “ping” causing me to jump up “ping” scrambling for a cool, casual, and perfectly timed response.
I wouldn’t want to look like I care.
Like I was waiting at my phone for hours after you read my text. Like my heart is thinking of nothing but you. Like I somehow stayed up looking through my timeline on Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, and even Facebook looking for something to fill this empty void inside my chest that I so desperately want you to fill.
You reply at 4 am on the dot with an “I miss you.” I reply with a goofy emoji, trying to play it cool.
Again, I wouldn’t want it to look like I care. Who wants to seem like they care? Certainly not me. Do you? God, I hope you do. It would make it so much easier not to think of you knowing that you do enough thinking for the both of us thinking about me thinking about us. It would be so nice if you would just read my text messages and respond 30 seconds after reading. It would give me so much comfort and I wouldn’t have to think of you so much because I am trying not to think about you and think about this horrible movie that is distracting me from thinking about you and that “ping” that has me scrambling for my phone once again.
“What would you be doing if I was there right now with you?”
My head goes through all the possible scenarios that I’ve curated while watching horrible movies at 3 am trying not to think of you, rather, thinking of our hypothetically possible-impossible future together with our six dogs and one kid in New York City. My heart thinks of you holding my hand as we talked about our lives. My heart thinks of you laying down next to me on the rooftop of my parent’s house while we silently listened to calming music while sipping tea. My heart thinks of you laying down with your head on my lap as I run my hands through your hair thinking of how horrible this movie is and how horribly fast my heart races and how horrible it is that my heart thinks of you.
It’s truly horrible how much I think of you and think of how much I care about you.
I mean, who wants to seem like they care?
Certainly not me.
And certainly not You.
- Sleep Loss Enthusiast
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