Every time I go out,
I always find myself
hoping
for even just a glimpse
of your brown, bespectacled face.
I don't know
when this started happening,
but one thing's for sure:
It started out as something
subconscious.
Now,
I'm fully aware
of how much
I want
to see you.
I tried
to assess my feelings
(or lack of)
by using a checklist
of the usual symptoms
of infatuation
as my guide.
Do I think about you often?
No.
Have my sleeping patterns
and eating habits
changed?
No.
Does your smile
make me have
butterflies in my stomach?
No.
Do I feel the urge
to gush about you
to my closest friends?
No.
Does my heart beat faster
when we talk?
No.
Have I ever dreamed about you?
Twice.
Do I stalk you
over the internet?
Well...I wouldn't really go so far
as to calling it
stalking
because stalking would imply...
Alright, alright. Fine.
Yes.
Do I like you?
Possibly.
Well, at least I think
your smile is cute.
I think
your idiosyncrasies are cute, too.
Like how you seem to have
only one hand gesture when you speak;
Like how you slouch
when you walk;
Like how you look shy and sometimes stammer
but are actually really smart.
Like how you memorized
my Youtube comment
on a certain video and
"nonchalantly" tried to ask me
if I had a Youtube account.
But that's it.
I just think you're cute.
Like a giant brown teddybear
that wears glasses
and amusing polo shirts.
So I'm certain
this
isn't love.
Definitely NOT love.
A crush, maybe?
But I answered no
to almost all the questions
in the checklist.
Yet I always find myself
hoping
for even just a glimpse
of your brown, bespectacled face
whenever I go out.
And I'm writing a poem about
you,
for crying out loud!
And I don't think
I like you
in
that way,
but I still like you...I guess.
So I don't understand why
I feel this conflicted
about you
when I don't think
I even have a crush on you.
And I don't understand why
I want to make you
feel jealous,
which is absolutely ludricrous,
because I'll bet
you don't even remember
my name.
And I don't understand why
a smile blossoms on my face
whenever I get the chance to greet you:
"Good morning, ***."
-Nocturnal Scribe
Note: March 2, 2013; 12:00am
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