Tumble and Stumble.

I know I'm in the midst of my midterms. Well, not really in the middle, since it just began today but that's not the point. I was just thinking about unrequited love. I know, it's a pretty depressing topic. Meh, like I don't know that.

I'm sitting here supposedly studying for my Critical Thinking Skills exam but I have an urge to blog. Besides that, I just can't seem to concentrate since I began entertaining these thoughts.

His three types of smiles, of which one can send my tummy spinning in spirals till I feel I'm about to pass out from the excitement, the way he laughs as though he's so short of breath and his voice is caught in his throat, the way his nostrils flare when he plays his bass. I'm afraid to touch him, you know. Sometimes I can't even touch him casually like I would others. I almost don't want to feel the warmth of his skin in friendly contact. It would be easier if I didn't know him from a dream. I'm afraid he'll read this and know it's for/about him. I'm even more afraid that he'll read this and not know.

He smells like fabric softener. Not that impressive, I guess, but he does. I remember. I recall the rough carpet grass feeling of his hair and how it just seems to bounce back into place when he ruffles it. I'm afraid he'll never speak to me again. I can still hear his voice. How he was commenting about some words I used often and how they can be unhealthy. Things were more antagonistic then, in an almost unfriendly way. But now, I can feel the banter getting thin. I don't know the strain on him but I know the strain on me.

I hear him talk about how much he misses his family and I want to hug him in a warm embrace and chase all those pains away. I want to make things better; I want to make things right. But I can't! I seem to do everything wrong. Everything about me is bad, wrong, not good enough. Sometimes, he seems so far away that I can't help but think that maybe we're on total different levels. Maybe we aren't even of the same species. Who knows. But sometimes, it hurts that I can't slow down enough to be appealing.

Hah. It sounds so depressing, but in a way, I think it's beautiful on it's own.