I'm sitting with you at our usual table, as the lunch hour goes flying pass. You're staying silent as I talk and joke with our friends. Did I do this to you?
I tug at a strand of your hair and ask what's wrong. I get a fearsome blush and an excuse. It makes me worried.
Suddenly, someone is teasing us, for liking each other. There is a hesitation before I join in with everyone else in the laughter. I quickly glance at you, and I see the most pained expression but only for a mere second. You quickly change it to a forced smile and some giggles.
You're lying about your real feelings. You're making the choice of staying as my good friend.
I hate being the cause of your pain.