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Far, far away.

"Hey! Wait for me!" I ran after him. Why does he have such long legs? He giggles and stumbles a little on the small rock, but he keeps running. Out of nowhere, I feel sorrow enveloping me. He's going to leave me. As I heard his giggles, my running slowed to a jog and eventually to a halt. He loves it. He loves leaving me behind, doesn't he? He can't even wait until tomorrow to leave me. "Hey! Come on! What's the matter?" I broke into tears as he walked towards me. My legs are frozen, my sight is blurry, and I sob. He's here, standing in front of me. He touches my shoulder, more like poking it to check if I'm still alive. I'm dead; I want to tell him. I died the day his mom told me they were going to move away. It's not too far, she said, yet not c lose anymore, like right now. It doesn't matter, today is his last day here. He's ready to leave here tomorrow.    "Hey, do you hear me?" He crouches a little to peek at my...
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From afar is enough.

He's sitting there. Same spot, same drink, but never the same mood. Today, he's kind of grumpy. Maybe annoyed by something or...someone? I never see him with anyone, just by himself, sitting there alone with his coffee, sometimes paired up with a croissant. I watched him every day; I never missed it. Call me a stalker; I don't mind. If this is the most I can do, let it be. I can't just go over there and say hi, can I? How can I tell someone who doesn't even know my name, not to mention my face, that I'm attracted to him? What if he freaks out and walks away, never to sit in that chair again? I will lose him forever. So much better this way, watching him from afar. Some days, he looks my way. I almost think he can see through me. But that's impossible, right? I always go back to my reading when he even slightly moves. I am on the same page of the book as I was last week. I was so busy reading his mind that my book was forgotten. How I wish I could have told h...
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