One day you'll find your -

There should be butterflies, and there's not.
There should be blushing, and there isn't.
I should be struggling to control my breathing as you get close to me, but I don't.

Something isn't right.


Surely if it was right, if it was meant to happen.
Surely if it was meant to be, if my waiting had not been in vain.
Surely if it was supposed to go further, if we were supposed to 'be'.
I would. And it would. And you would. And we would.

But I don't.


So I've come to the conclusion. That I need butterflies. And if there aren't any, then there aren't going to be. And there is no point in carrying on pretending.
Because honestly, truthfully, that is all I am doing.


I don't want to pretend. I don't want to learn to feel something more. To be patient and wait for the butterflies to come. Because what if they don't. What if I miss out on the butterflies while I wait for these false ones to appear.

What if I already feel the butterflies I am searching for from a person who barely knows I exist?
Because truthfully, there are some butterflies, just not about you.


There's a boy. He is beautiful. And he barely knows who I am.
I get butterflies when I think of him. When I am lucky enough to talk to him, I freeze. Unable to find the words.
I could talk to him for hours, even when I have nothing to say, just because I want to talk to him.
I find him so interesting. I just want to know more.
I could look at him forever and never get bored.
But I'll never be good enough to deserve him, to have him want me, to have him even know me.

Maybe its infatuation. Maybe it's obsession. Maybe.
But he is the only one who gives me butterflies. So for now I shall hold on to that and hope that, "one day you will find your -"