I miss that timidness of last year. We were barely secure enough to hold a gaze. Now, when there's silence, you need too desperately to fill it. I will tell you now only once and please remember this until/or after I die: I can trudge through any awkwardness with a smile.
Don't worry. Pump up the music. I feel so sick tonight, but you are playing, over the airwaves, the most unexpected of songs. And I wonder if you play this song for any reason, or to settle your rustling mind. Where does it even go, besides through the leaves of the trees in any forest across the world? Through days you convinced the girls you loved to go with you, where those little feathery things flew past your faces, and while you laughed as they tickled your cheeks, the girls only asked you how much longer they had to be there.
I'll wait for something I don't really understand and try not to be too upset that you are, not, in fact, in love with me.