This issue seems to come up in high school all the time. There isn't a day when a friend won't...
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Everyone else seems to see something else. Everyone else seems to notice that there’s something more. Everyone else can’t help but ask for the truth. But in response they get the same old answer, “We’re just good friends.” Typical? Sure, these things happen. Then it comes to the point where you become convinced that perhaps there is something more. But what do you do then? Potentially ruin your friendship? Seek for something greater? Maybe just do nothing? How could I just do nothing? It seemed that with each day a growing passion arose in me. It seemed that each day he went un-noticed of the fact that I had something I was dying to tell him. But somehow I could see in his eyes that he knew something, but I didn’t know what.
Yes we shared secrets with one another. But neither of us seemed to deeply touch on the “love” topic. He had asked me a few times, but I was careful to answer in a twisted manner that would ultimately leave him no answer. And when I would ask him, he would seem to answer the same way I would answer him. That was when I became suspicious. Was he hiding something? Was there some hope? But with time it seemed that his answers would only leave me confused.
He had said he’d call me and message me and he had said how dearly he wanted to hang out. He had said he didn’t want to lose touch over the summer. He had said how he didn’t want to wait until fall, when school would open again, to catch up with me.
Now it’s summer. Well, it’s really the beginning of summer. June is near ending, and July will begin. We’ve talked only twice. The first time, we ended up playing a game that seemed to absorb the world’s truth like a sponge. And it was at that time that we both became a little…mushy and gushy. I blame him for it though. But it was nonetheless all bittersweet. Bittersweet because I felt like we were both harboring something so deep, but at the same time we were sharing beautiful moments and facts. And that was the beauty of us, that we could create all these moments, all these good times. I had known him for quite a few years. I had seen him go from a little squirt to someone sensitive and so much taller than I am. The second time, we talked briefly, about little siblings. I have none. So I told him how I wanted one because I wanted someone to look up to me and love me for loving them. He said that that was so sweet of me. He said how adorable it was that I was a family type. Then he had to go, and I had to go, and that’s where it seemed to end.
I find it rather peculiar. Summer’s only begun, and something inside of me is burning, raging, steaming. I just want him to talk to me again. I want him to call me again. I want him to ask me to hang out with him again, so we can catch up on whatever it is we missed. I find myself in an awkward position, kind of like this squirrel that can never seem to climb the oak tree in front of my house successfully, much less reach for the nut that he’s being trying to get for so long. It’s funny because unlike the other squirrels, he could just dig in the ground, but he never does. He just barely climbs the oak tree and then tries to reach for the nut with his little gray and white paw. Sometimes he even gets pretty close to the nut. One time I even rooted for him in my head, his claw nearly touched the nut. But then he lost balance, yet he was able to catch himself. He had landed on all four, but he just left the nut. Two days later, this same squirrel was digging in the ground for nuts. He had given up.