Maybe it's in the way he says your name, tranquil and evanescent, in which you find yourself swooning over this man of refined language—both verbal and heartfelt.
But he does not love you. He does not adore you in the way you think he does.
He smiles at you from across the room when he hears an inside joke only you two can understand. He laughs lightly as his eyes meet yours, leaving both of you in a state of hushed laughter and pursed lips, trying to hide what you only call yours.
He quietly sits next to you as you go about your uneventful day. He watches you scan the pages of that one book that makes your heart flutter every time you read it, smiling to yourself, wishing it was you that got swept off her feet in the middle of California. He subtly sits there making short conversations with the people around you, not making a single effort to get your attention; you notice him anyway.
You notice him. You always notice him. Whether he's right beside you watching short videos on Facebook, or across the room talking to the prettiest girl in your class, or meters away as you pass him by on your daily commute to school, you notice him.
But let me tell you, he does not deserve you in the way you give yourself to him.
He doesn't deserve you because when he sees you, he sees nothing else but the image of a girl who laughs at his insanely unfunny jokes and helps him score the number of his dream girl who coincidentally lives next to you. He doesn't deserve you because all he sees is the girl who is there to get him through the day. You are a mere wingwoman, nothing more than a sidekick. You are just his friend for the good times.
But you stayed there, lying down with your eyes gazing out the window, catching a glimpse of the stars and asking why? Why can't he see that you are here, willing to give him so much of yourself? Why can't he love you back?
Whenever you look at yourself in the mirror, you are supposed to see the traits you have and love them fully. Instead, you stare coldly at your reflection, pinpointing everything you don't have that you think hinders him from loving you back. You envelope yourself in a blanket of self-loathe and desperation all because of this one boy.
But right now I want you to take a close look at yourself, at everything you have done for your undying love for this man who cannot even look at you straight in the eyes before turning his eyes to the next girl who's willing to submit herself to his lousy flings and 11PM text messages. Is it all worth it? Is it worth it after seeing yourself bend down to the world and its so-known cruelty because of a love you can never call your own? Because of a boy who cannot even see your worth?
Please stop crying at night. Stop pleading and begging and asking the stars to align just for the two of you to meet ways. Stop forcing God to make him yours, for him to suddenly realize his undying love for such a broken and beaten girl. Stop wasting the 23rd hour of each day wishing for him to suddenly come up to kiss your bruises and heal your broken bones. Stop hurting yourself at his expense.
Most of all, stop convincing yourself that he secretly loves you, that in between the platonic high-fives and jokes, noontime dates and favorite songs, he feels the same way.
Because if he did love you, you wouldn't reach the height of hurting yourself just to prove it. So wipe your eyes, remove the dust off your kness, and pick up the dignity you dropped on the floor the moment you laid eyes on him. If he did love you, you would be loving yourself, too.