Uh oh.
She caught you.
Blue eyes – stunning, questioning – an eyebrow curved, wrinkling her brow slightly with the force of the gesture. Brown eyes – full of wonder – how can her eyes sparkle with just a giggle? How can her laugh ring so loudly in your ears? Brown eyes – darting back and forth, always landing back on her, pleading –
Love me, love me.
She caught you looking. Again.
You look down at the rickety, brown table in front of you. You look at other people gathered around you. There are study materials strewn everywhere, of which you were going to “study” from when your friends came down. But all of that was predictably thrown out the window when they came. You can’t concentrate on homework, so you settle for noticing your surroundings. You notice her, really.
And it’s not that you don’t notice your other friends. You pay attention to them, too. Every time you get a laugh though, there’s only one person you see. Her face a mystery to you, but her eyes tell all. It sends a shock down to your stomach – a butterfly gone mad. You want to be the one to make her happy. You keep cracking jokes. Some are hit and miss. Your gaze winds up moving to her lips. Not too full, not too thin. There is probably not a single thing you wouldn’t do for just one kiss – a cuddle, a hug. You’ve sworn yourself off these things. Why?
You can’t have her. It wasn’t your choice to have your first love be a straight woman. You’re trying so hard not to burden her with it. Not to make anything different – to not destroy the friendship. You touch her less. You don’t want to feel that shock. It’s like your entire body is shot by lightning when you touch her. Yet, your entire being, soul and ear, can hear the brontide of trouble brewing. You wish it would go away. There’s this constant cycle of tossing and throwing – not unlike a game of catch. Sometimes you catch the ball, and feel okay – great, even. Other times you toss it up and it spirals down, hitting your face with a resounding wham. The throb of your skull against your own head is as exhausting as the throb in your chest.
Hiding around her is impossible. Every emotion combines – melding and churning and burning. Keep laughing. Don’t look at her. Stay away from her eyes – they’re beautiful, beautiful traps. You’re getting tired. Your friends are becoming blends of each other. It’s so dizzying. You’re panicking. Where’s your smile? Don’t die down. But you can’t handle it anymore. It’s finally overwhelming you. You stand, your chair squealing its protests.
“I’m going to bed.”
They look at you, a sigh of disappointment. Everyone seems to follow suit, with agreements of “It is late”, or, “I have class in the morning”. You gather your stuff and burn holes into the floor with your eyes. Pain is everywhere, physical and emotional. Soon you’re in your room, blanket over you. You can feel your eyes closing. Even then, no matter how tired you are, there is this sense of loneliness – an urge for another being. You want to dream – dreams are an escape. You just hope you don’t dream of her tonight.
…Uh oh.
The UAlbany Crossing 