Probably what bothers me the most is the constant uncertainty of your thoughts. Men always think that women are hard to understand, but really, men (well, boys. I’m not that old…) are just as hard to understand. How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking if you never really give me any hints? I’m totally clueless and oblivious to some things, I know, but trust me, I would notice if you said something to me.
And when I invite you places, please don’t invite other people. Me inviting you means I want to spend time with you. Because class is not enough time to spend talking to you, and I really could spend forever just sitting and talking to you. You make me feel like someone understands me (even my pet peeves, because you hate the same things I do) and I can’t help but feel like maybe you have that same feeling whenever we talk. We never judge each other and it’s a mutual understanding between us. Sometimes I imagine all the conversations we would have if maybe we spent more time together.
And maybe we will, this weekend. But how do I know it will really happen? How do I know that you won’t cancel? And even if you don’t, what if we spend the whole time talking about something stupid (like school and studying)? I don’t want you to think I’m weird if I ask you too many times to hang out but I don’t want to spend all this time just seeing you in school.
I can’t even explain how I feel when I’m with you. It’s so easy and comfortable to talk to you and you make me feel beyond happy, like everything in the world is going right. Sometimes I spend forever just thinking about that something you said and analyzing it, trying to figure out what you meant. Did you really mean that I was pretty? Or did you just want to know why I was so dressed up today? And for all that we talk, I know that you’d rather to talk to her. She is prettier, and funnier, and you guys are really close.
But I can’t help but wish that you would want to talk to me and want to spend time with me, just me. Sometimes I wonder how life would be different if I had done things differently, if I had eaten lunch with you that day two years ago, before I felt like this, or if you had come over that night, when you had to go to your dinner party.
I wish I could just read your mind and know exactly what you think of me. You tell me things that make me think that you trust me, but we never talk outside of class. Sometimes you wait for me after class and we walk together, but sometimes when I wait for you, you look as if you wish I wouldn’t.
I just don’t know what you think, and I’m scared that maybe you don’t see everything that I see between us. Maybe I just see a connection that doesn’t exist. What I think is a rope, you probably see as a thread. I just don’t know what you think of me.