August 23rd, 2010

Sam wasn't here today.

This is the time when I know I'm obsessed. I was the only one besides maybe Alex, who knew he was gone. I looked for him everywhere he'd be or would go and he wasn't there.

It hurt.

God, I can't describe how much it hurt, knowing he wasn't there, that he's not going to come up behind me and flick me in the back of the head. That he's not going to give me a face hug or a real hug and let me listen to his Ipod when I ask him what he's listening to when he can't hardly hear through the headphones when I laugh a hi. That I'm not going to see the comforting familiar plaid jacket he wears only to school and not at youth. To not see his stickered plain hat and watch him push back his hair from his face. To not hear him say- I'll see you later, or, Talk to you tonight. Not being poked and confided in something I didn't kow about him before.

And I crave that information. I think I'm the only one that does, maybe that's why he knows I like him or I think he likes me. I'd like to think that him confessing to me helps him. He's been to therapy but didn't break, I don't blame him.

Sam has a haunting past.

And I do.

I think (and desparatley hope) that Sam likes me. But there's absolutely nothing I can do about that. I'm trying to not care and give it to God.

By the way, if anyone's actually reading this, I would love any helpful advice in this situation.

Truly, Me.

The End

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