Do They Know?
By A. Liz
Does he know that when I think of my best friend, I think of him? When I want to talk, he's the one I look for. When I want to cry, he makes me feel better –like I don't have to cry. Now the tears for more than ever, because now I can't. Can't talk, can't laugh, cry, smile, giggle, blush, can't let him know. All I can do is want and lose. Want hope. Want him. Lose hope. Lose him. Want him. Lose hope.
Does she know that I only pretended she annoyed me? That, really, I counted the minutes until she arrived. Pretending that I didn't like her long narratives, pretending that meek, unimposing little person wasn't the reason I wrote. I wanted to end the story so that she could live her own life. I'd be lying if I didn't say I wanted her life to include me.
Does he know that, as much as I love the promise he's keeping, I wish he wouldn't? I feel so selfish for keeping him all to myself, chained, much as I am, to this lake. I want him to be happy, to have a real life. How can anyone be happy here?
Does she know that, everyday, I wish, and pray, and hope, and write for some way to return the girl I know? I know she'd be mad, but she looks so sorrowful, so sullen on the water. Does she know that when she looks at me with those same blue eyes, it just makes me try harder? I hope she never finds out how selfish I am. I'd like to think that she looked up to me in her past life. If she knew of my greed now, I wouldn't want her to.
Does he know
that I love…?
Does she know