You and I

I was new. You weren't.

You fit in nicely with the rest of them while I watched from afar.

I was scared. You weren't.

You talked to them while I read a book at a corner.

I was hated. You weren't.

You sat the far end of the room for some reason. And for some reason they picked on me.

I was befriended by someone. You weren't.

You were already friends with almost everybody else, but it was the first time someone was kind to me.

I was bullied. You were too.

You and I had talked. We went with the others who were one of us too.

I was captured. Maybe you were too.

You were always easily the best in everything-- and I liked it. You liked that I liked it. We stuck together.

I was jealous. I'm sure you weren't.

Word out the street is that she likes you. You look good together.

I was keeping my feelings. You-- I didn't know yours.

I liked that I was friends with you, so I can keep on being close to you.

I was contented. You weren't.

You knelt down in front of me and asked, "Will you marry me?"

I was confused. You weren't.

You laughed it off when I didn't answer, and then left.

I was hurt. You weren't.

It hurt to be close to you, so I kept to myself once again.

I was still hurting. You weren't.

You held me by my bracelet as we danced, so I knew, I had to get over you.

I was going numb. You-- I never knew.

If you meant what you said, then my yes is too late.

I was staying. You weren't.

I kept on looking but never found anything.

I left. You didn't.

But still I'm looking for you, where you went and where you last made through.

I came back. You didn't.

Now I'm writing this letter and I'm still looking for you, I wanna get over you.