Listless, lifeless
waiting.

I crawl back to the center of attention and kick a table out of my way, dynamic and energetic now, so fucking full of wisom now, unconventional, pleasant, beautiful.
now.
now I slink out the door avoiding their fucking praise, "hey you're an inspiration!" "What are you doing after this? I've got a hotel room..." the innuendo has stopped intruiging. I stand right in their fucking way and wait for them to pass as I watch her finish an introduction and stoop to laboriously turn a page, she is beautiful, she is the center of attention, and she knows it.

She walks seldom, smiles demurely and seduces a room full of strangers as I wait, watching through glass, only the loudest of her cries can reach my ears but I know what she's saying, I know it because I care.

I watch her flip her hair away from her face and flip the black page over again, her eyes instantly well up with sadness and as she relates what she has seen, I want to cry as well. I won't, I'll stand here, immovable as they watch me watching her, they understand now because I have told them, I tell them everytime I look at her and everytime I touch her, I tell them when my face creases with worry as she sags under the weight of this world, I tell them when we steal away precious moments of solitude, wrapped in each others arms and passionately waiting for the interruption we know is coming.

I tell them what I have told her everytime I have touched her, everytime I have stared into her lovely eyes and gotten lost for what felt like an eternity cut short. I tell her when She curls against me in my bed and I hold her. I'm crazy, I'm worthless and all I have has been offered, promised...

She knows this, and when she lays against me, sheilded by a coat that has driven countless others away, her fingers play against my chest, tracing the lines of scars she hates and warming her frigid hands against me.

I want to be the well of her beauty, I want her to draw on me and feel at peace, I want to drive her worry away and heal her pain. I want to steal the sorrow and the agony and keep them for myself, I want to suffer so she can live happily, I want her to hate me and to drive me away. I want to be her gaurdian and her keeper, I want to devote my life to someone so pure.

I want her to love me back.

it will never happen and I have accepted this. even as a lovely girl with stupid eyes tries to engage me in a conversation i ignore her conciously, and I watch. disgusted she leaves, something is wrong with this boy I agree but she'd never understand even if I explained it. I have made a concious choice to wait for the end, knowing full well that when it comes I will hurt more for every moment that I spend with the girl I should run from. Knowing that even as she patiently relates the parts I hate, she is drawing me to her, closer, and when it finally happens, when we tear away from each other, I will care and she will not, I will hurt and she will not. I will force a smile and kiss her forehead and keep in touch so she will not worry. I will suffer in silence and cry alone because I'm in love
and she is not.