He walks past me, every day.

He knows my name, yes. He knows quite a bit about me. I know he does. I’ve been in love with him since the sixth grade.

Sometimes I wish I could say he “doesn’t even know my name.” It’s so cliché, but so.. interesting. Life can be a little cliché sometimes. I guess it’s just my job to point it out.

He’s my friend.. and I’ve told him about how I like him, I’ve told him that I’ve wanted more. He never has, probably never will. All I can do is wait.

Here I am, three years later, still completely obsessed.. and he’s been acting differently, for a couple of weeks now. I’m not sure how, and it’s barely there, but.. it’s almost as though we’re closer, and he looks at me in a different way.

My phone beeps in my pocket. I pull it out, and see he’s calling.

I flip my phone open, and swallow. “Hello?”

“Um.. hi.”

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