I know it is wrong, but my heart aches nonetheless.
When I think about his curly hair or his bright green eyes, I feel a familiar lump form in my chest.
When we're together, I try to play it cool. I push it down, I change the subject and try to think about anything else. The growing murmur becomes a rushing train in my ears. Despite every effort to the contrary, I always act like a schoolboy when we hang out; trying to constantly impress but acting like a fool. Later, I chastise myself for being so awkward.
When we are apart, which is most of the time, I replay our exploits in my mind:
Late night galavanting
Dinner parties
Shouting and nonsense and music
Blurry bars and subway rides
Most fondly, I remember the car ride through the suburbs when I rested my head on his shoulder. I still remember the smell of his body, and the sound of his voice resonating through his chest.
I can't control my bitter jealousy either. I am intensely resentful of his closer friends. I flush at the thought of all of the people who get to spend more time with him than me.
Sometimes, I think about the time we kissed at a party. It was only a dare, but I can still feel his stubble on my cheek.
More than anything, I long for a single sign. A few words or a touch that shows he loves me just as much... even if it's not in the same way.
End.
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