I Like You

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. ~ Pablo Neruda


I like you, but I feel that I don’t know how to like you. I fear in my liking you I may push you away, I may like you away. I sit fidgeting for you to like me back so that I know I’m not crazy. I wait for you to reach out, show me that this is mutual, that I’m not daydreaming. I hate waiting, so I reach out first, and jealously savor each moment of our interactions, because I like you.

I gaze longingly at my phone, willing it to ring, a call from you, a message, something. It doesn’t. It’s just Mum reminding me to get her her meds. It’s Papa asking me if I still have those marking schemes and can I get him a copy of each! Thanks! It’s her, asking for help with her computer. I’m miffed. Because I like you. And it feels so good.

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