When you graduate and most probably vanish from my sight, maybe I'll search for you just to tell you how much I used to like you. I'll write you a letter, and try my best to describe how my heart fluttered when you brush my hair off my face a night long long time ago. I'd tell you that my heart stopped beating when you walked up to me to wipe some dirt off my face. And I'd let you know that when you stood there and looked me in the eye, I could swear that the world stopped moving.
I'd tell you that I was always there for you, always just a phone call away. Maybe you knew that, cuz you used to call me about your girlfriend problems. I'd listen and then feel sad after our conversation cuz you love someone else.
Maybe I'd tell you these. And maybe I'd also ask if you used to like me at all, even if it's just a bit.
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