I’m Still Here by John Rzeznik
It’s not rational; there’s nothing rational about it.
I’m still crushing on you. Me. This silly little awkward girl.
Ever since I first saw you, and I don’t understand why it won’t go away. I don’t understand. You’re not particularly sparkly—there’s nothing exceptionally remarkable about you. Nothing that I can pick out, nothing that stands out—supersedes the typical. Nothing. And yet, something. It was something about you that compelled me to look your direction. Something about you… Maybe it was the way you were standing. You were a bit off-center, I noticed. Alone. I’m sure you felt it too. You were wearing those flip-flops. The ones you always wear. A sweatshirt, and those glasses. The ones without the frames. And when I stared at you, I noticed you were already looking my way. And I noticed you. I can pinpoint you, your exact location at the time I saw you. I noticed you. And your hair. The way you always flip it to the side, or when I’m talking to you and you don’t make eye contact. You kind of tilt your head slightly to the left and you smile that impenetrable smile. God only knows what you’re thinking; I would love to know what you’re thinking. And sometimes, I wish I’d have said “yes” when you asked me to go with you to that one concert I knew not of. (Hell, I didn’t even know who they were) But I think I’ve missed every chance, every bone, you threw at me. And oh how I wanted to keep on pretending; I wanted your hand in mine.
And to think, that if I hadn’t looked your way, I would’ve never felt this way. Never.
Hearing your voice and the what-nots that accompany heartbeats, sweat glands, and a slight rise in blood pressure.
This is why I can’t listen to your radio show.
(via quote-book)
Why don’t you ever look at me when I’m talking to you.
Do I make you feel uncomfortable?
Am I too awkward to socialize with?
Do you hate me?
Do you like me?
Does my breath smell?
What is it? Tell me. Tell me.
You have no problem looking at anyone else; you’ve no problem holding a conversation and letting it roll on for hours on end. I’ve seen you. I’ve witnessed it first hand when you’re talking on the phone and you’ve got everything and nothing to talk about. I notice you.
(via sweethotdrift)
Did you think I didn’t notice when you scratched your head and ruffled your hair; you placed your arm right next to mine only to proceed to outline words already written.
p.s. it wasn’t cold that day
Today was the first time I understood what it meant when the moths don’t die for nothing.
Remember: I don’t do things for shits and giggles.
When you do the mean & ignore act to the person you like
(via whatannoysus)
I wish I could do something to help
I really do.
so I’ve always wondered…
if people could grow to love someone who loves them back.
I’ve always wondered this. I’ve always wondered if, even if you never initially “liked” them (in that way), and if you’ve always just seen them as a friend, then would it—could it—still be possible to fall in love with them?
I wish my questions had answers.
Love. A most wondrous thing, truly it is. Comes to us in many forms and guises. Not always packaged in the shape we perhaps want it, but no less in it’s value.
A friend, on the verge of a relationship, asked me the other day what I thought about the man in question. He is a good man I know; the way he cares for her, his values, how he feels and his beliefs speak for themselves.
‘Yes but I don’t get buttterflies everytime I look at him. I want to feel that. It is important that I feel that,’ she protested.
‘Really?’ I asked, ‘Have you ever watched a butterfly as it flutters around the garden? Have you ever noticed how it will embrace a flower and kiss it for only a few seconds before flying off onto the next one. Have you noticed the way, it repeats this pattern until eventually flying off to pastures new because it was bored? Think back to the last time you did have that butterfly feeling with a man – how long did it last and where is he now?’
And then we just carried on walking, in silence, but deep thought at these beautiful creatures who leave a trail of broken hearted flowers.
” Nashreen Akhtar (Ordinary Girl’s Ordinary Blog)
