Futility

Hi. Once more, I am writing about you.

We did hang out today. With her. Like when at your place.
Had lunch. Watched that movie.
Browsed the bookstores.
I accompanied you to your car.
I had fun.

But once again, you left me feeling confused.
Do I have a chance?
I know, we are going to the same university.
I know that we are friends. Quite close ones, too.
What difference does it make?
What advantage does it give me?

In the movie, there was that line.
I don't remember it exactly. It was only mentioned twice. By Napoleon Bonaparte.
But I think I got the gist of it.
It was about being reluctant to confess for fear of ruining the friendship.
BLAST!
I don't know if you noticed.
I don't know if you felt it too.
Heck, I still don't know whether you know.
But I felt weird. You know, awkward and so.
Very accurate. Straight to the heart.
Exactly my feelings. Precisely my fear.

And you don't even read my blog!

Since when did I become like this?!
Where did that arrogance, that pride go?
Where is that confidence now?

I have always wanted to live free.
Free of fear, free of worries.
Free of attachments.

My dear,
You have successfully conquered me.
You have bound me.

And I,
I really, REALLY wish I could say this to your face.

Love.