i should've known we'd never be friends.
we've only spoken once—on the first day of math class
the thing that stood out to me
was that white patterned shirt you wore.
not many people wear it, but i've seen it before.
on those shops my mother always goes on,
eyeing clothes that would never suit me
or her.
you couldn't see it, but i smiled.
i don't know why that would make me grin.
so when i thought we could become friends,
i was too optimistic about it.
we probably don't have anything in common.
it's not like we knew each other before.
i sit behind you, but you'd never look back.
you're friends with everyone else around me,
but after that only interaction, we never spoke again.
i really wish it didn't end like that.
i wish you'd ask me what you missed while getting lunch.
or exchange correct answers after we get our tests back.
ask me if my day was well and i can respond,
like a normal conversation works.
maybe asking to be friends is too much.
i'm definitely asking for too much.
but after sitting alone in the lunchroom for three years,
after sitting in a full classroom where the only person who knows your name is the teacher,
i just wanted another person to speak with.
i should be grateful for what i have now.
but it can't hurt to be selfish once in a while. . .
~ a
11.05.2021
