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TouchesYou watch as his hand touches yours for only a moment, it's meaningless for him; only a brush of the hand as he's talking. For you it's everything; you live for those thoughtless touches, those friendly, platonic, hugs.You go over them at night, count the times his body touched yours in the most innocent of ways. You try to find some hidden meaning in the ways he touches you. Could that hug have meant more than that he was just happy to see you? Could that time his hand brushed yours as you passed your drink to him mean he wanted to touch you as much as you wish you could touch him? Is it all in your head or is it real?You know you're pathetic. You know you won't ever say anything but still, you can't help the way you can't quite keep your heart rate normal and you can't quite control your tongue when you're around him.You wait and you watch as he dates other girls, as he talks about other girls, as he touches other girls. You wonder 'will that girl ever be me?' You don't think so b
AloneIt is quite funny how something simple,So simple in both nature and action,Can make you feel so utterlyAlone.Something simple likeYour friends all having time to be togetherBut no time to be with you.Something simple likeYour friends smiling and laughingWhile you fight the unhappiness inside youThat they don’t seem to notice.Something as simple asNot being invited to a partyBecause they “exceeded the limit they could invite.”Something as simple asAlways following behind, one step awayBut as you slow to a stopThey don’t turn to make sure you are still okay.It is quite angering and upsettingTo always have to wonder why.Why it seems like you aren’t important enoughTo keep them company.Why you will never be good enoughTo truly be their friend.Why you will always be left behindWhen you want so much to take part in it.Why you are always just “average” enoughTo never make a lasting impression.How is one supposed to beMagni