Hold my hand
Everyday I see him and everyday my want grows. It's not fair almost, to keep seeing him everyday, yet not being able to do the things I want to. But that's my own fault I suppose
I should have told him when I had the chance, I should have told him what I felt; now he's with him. And as hard as I try to keep the bitterness out of my words, I can't. Because every time I think of him and all the things he can do that I can't… It hurts, and not to sound horrendously cliché, but it hurts that one spot in my chest; my heart.
Everyday I see him and my jealously grows. I grow more bitter at him and it's hard to keep up the faux smile, because they seem so happy that I couldn't bear try something and breaking them up. Just so I can have him to myself. That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be nice. I just… I want him to hold my hand like he does his. I want to be loved by you in more then the platonic, friendship love we have now. Why? Why don't you love me? Was it something I did or something I didn't? Please, just, hold my hand…
And my heart.