I was always just observing from afar. I could barely hear you talking to your friends. Even when I couldn't make out the words, your eyes do not lie at all. At times they were glowing from a funny punch line, from receiving good news, maybe. But oftentimes I see them exhausted, dry and watery. Like tears have been slowly welling up, bottled up inside trying hard not to fall. I ask myself why. I ask myself what must have happened to you.
You may have not noticed but we have crossed paths more than you know. When you take brisk walks in the morning or when you're rushing to get coffee on a particularly busy day. I saw you sitting at a coffee shop once, one time in a park—alone. How could someone as beautiful as you be all alone in this city?
You don't quite believe in love the way you used to. You've probably stopped believing because you think it won't work. It will never work. You know it'll always end badly, so you've put up walls no one can break. But I can break that if you just look at life at a bigger picture, if you just won't run away.
I want to listen to you. I want to need you as much as you need and thirst for explanations. I want to be there for you. Listen to your favorite records, laugh with you watching hilarious reruns, stay with you on your cold couch. Appreciate you more than you hate the way you look. I want you to be loved—I want you to be loved by me.
I am not perfect. I am not a hero. I am not even a prince. I am not a rich. I am not a book character girls get obsessed with. I am nothing but normal and real. And I won't be around far too long on sidewalks, or benches and pavements.
I will be there as soon as you accept love and have already fully and truly loved yourself.
The boy you haven't met yet.
Alve Jane Aranton blogs at http://sheisthepaperbackwriter.tumblr.com.