highschoolish

I am done with my stalker era.

Yet despite pretensions and hesitations, I am blushing again.

Like high school, to another person who can never be mine.

Like high school, I always look around and hope to see him somewhere over the corners of the campus, but to no avail.

Like high school, here is a girl-magnet who doesn't even know how beautiful he is.

Or maybe he does, but does not care.

Like high school, I am still that goody-two-shoes that is overlooked on prom nights.

You can say a teenage dirt-bag.

But now, I am too afraid to even look at him.

I am done with my stalker era.

And may happily crumble in the periphery.