I don’t know you. You don’t know me. We were never meant to be. Not even close. See, you seemed a well enough person to have a crush on and so I did. I was helpless and it was hopeless. I knew it wasn’t anything serious. I was messing around and just having fun. I really liked how you looked with those braces and that smile and how you would really try to understand what our Math teacher was teaching. You were really nice to me when I was desperate for a notebook in that subject and gave me one of your extra ones. That’s now my best subject, won’t you agree? I can never forget that and I thank you for that. I tried to repay that by lending you a pencil and such. It was an “okay” relationship for starters.
We became group mates in some subjects and I was really happy, getting to know you and all. It was really fun working with you, partially because I liked you and who wouldn’t enjoy doing group works with their crush, right? I guess that was a period of getting to know each other a little bit more. I began to know more about you. I remember this one time in English when we openly discussed love in the class and you were there, obviously shot by cupid’s arrow when you told us you were “in love”. I had suspicions on who you were in love with, but all of them turned out wrong, but eventually I knew your special someone.
My favorite memories of you and me was when we attended this leadership thing at school and we were group mates and I took my first picture of you. Then, there was this thing in Science when we had to get our height, circumference of head and waistline. You were the only one that could measure my height so you got so close to me and looked at the measure on the tape measure taped on the wall. Another one was in business class where we got paired and we won the thing, and the losers were supposed to dance to this song, but didn’t. The last one I could recall easily is when we did our Chemistry project at the mall and just goofed around. I know these events weren’t really a “spark” thing or anything, but I was happy, and that’s not nothing. You made me laugh and thank you for that. You may not have felt the same way, but I didn’t ask you how you felt.
And that August, I convinced myself I was over you. That I had another crush (that also has a girlfriend as of now, but more of that later or never). Of course there still were this lingering feelings that say that “you’re cute” and “gosh, he’s so nice” and the like, but I kept brushing them off. It was inevitable, really, since I see you every single day and that’s just that. I accepted it and just moved on. You are cute. You are smart. You are nice. But I still didn’t know you.
I don’t know you, and I probably never will. I never knew you well enough and I guess I could say you don’t know me as well. You found out you were my crush and now, you’re acting all awkward, or am I the one acting awkward? I will never know. I can’t just confront you with it or talk to you about it. I know you well enough to say that you’re not that kind of person. So, now here I am, not knowing what to do with you. I got over you last August. I was successful. But why did it have to be this way? I sometimes wish we were friends and just hang out, but now I know that can’t be. You just talk to me when you need to ask something about studies and homework and such.
Here’s me writing another blog post, as per usual. But you will never get to read this, or will you? Nah, you can’t find this blog, or even if you do, you won’t bother reading it. Am I correct? I guess I do know you a little bit, enough to say that you won’t be able to read this. But, I just want to make things clear for you and me, I don’t have a crush on you anymore. I do think you’re cute, and no one can prove me wrong because YOU ARE. And she’s lucky to have you and you’re lucky to have her. This post may look really serious, but it’s not. It’s just another crush post and that’s that.
But if you do read this, if you do prove my thoughts about you wrong, then I want to ask you if we could be cool, if we could be at least friends. I hate being awkward but that’s me, so can you be less? A silly request but that’s serious. Sorry if I’ve offended you by liking you, but that’s not really an offense. I hate you for being so “choosy” or “picky” and mean to me. You avoid me at all costs and you suck for that. You’re such a feeler. Ugh.
That previous paragraph wasn’t too good, but I mean it. I meant, mean, and will mean everything I have written, write and will write in this little blog of mine.
LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE