|I want to, but I can't|

Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?  The words that you say can never be tamed like wild animals in the cages or how my stomach erupts with butterflies. One little like hey can make the world seem like an empty place. Like it’s the only place where we can stand because the clock that ticks is silent and the wind that seeps through window is now in pause.

I want to meet you, but I know I can’t. You are to far and so is your heart, but my feelings for you are close by; if only you can hear when my breath quickens and my hands get sweaty that I have to rub them on my jeans.  I wish you could just notice how I really felt, but you are blinded by my kindness and think it is a friendly gesture.  No, no you have it all wrong. You think that its friendship that I want. You think that the only reason I smile shyly and talk to a minimal point with only one word answers when I am around you is because I’m attacked with anxiety.

I wish I could reach out for you. I wish you can see my writing and read what I write about you. Then, maybe you’ll understand.