You tell yourself you’re unbreakable, unemotional
You give yourself reasons not to pay attention to emotions
You like being called cold hearted
You build a haphazard wall of sarcasm and cynicism
You never let people know how you truly feel
It begins with a text; hey
You begin to talk
At first it’s careless banter
He’s funny, witty. Charming even
You laugh, you guard yourself. Never going to happen you say
But then it does happen.
Your random chain of thoughts somehow goes back to what he said
You catch yourself smiling sometimes
It pisses you off but then it doesn’t
You like it but you hate it
Then you look forward to the conversations
Those long unending ones that go on for days with an undefined pattern
You sigh, you cuss, dammit.
Somehow those walls begin to falter and chip off
You’re no longer as guarded; you’re vulnerable
You feel free but then you’re scared
You like him and it’s not sarcastic or ephemeral; it’s the real deal
But you don’t know how to express it
You try but then you fail
And then you’re sad
Because you fear he might like you; love you even
But he might never understand you.
You promise yourself to try, he’s worth it?
You smile at his words, you fancy his voice with that south-eastern twang
He’s funny, cheerful, caring. He’s a lot of good things
You find him beautiful and it sucks
But you like it and then you hate it
Deep down you know it but you refuse to admit it
That you’ve found it, found him
Your very own beautiful creation.