You guess you should stop looking out for him, like you always do. You’ve been doing it for so long—always waiting, always hoping he’d notice, but he never does. When will he start looking out for you, too? Instead of leaving you standing there, staring at your shoes, unsure of what to do with yourself?

It’s the way he glances at you sometimes. That look makes you feel guilty for liking him, as if it’s wrong to want something more. And when you see him with someone else, it cuts deeper than you want to admit. You tell yourself it’s just a friendship, just a connection, but the truth is, it stings.

You’re walking out in the snow with him, the cold air biting at your skin, and you feel the weight of every unspoken word. “I guess I should go,” you say, though all you want is to stay, to just be near him. You talk about someone else, something else, when you both know what really matters. You should be talking about you—about the way your heart races when he's near, the way you’re always waiting for him to see you in a different light. But instead, it’s the same old situation, and you’re left waiting for him to make the first move, to stop being so blind to the way you feel.

You think it’s stupid, this crush you’ve got. You’re too shy to tell him, too scared of ruining the friendship, of admitting how much you want more. But when he flashes that smile, it makes everything else disappear. The world around you blurs, and all you can think about is him.

You feel like you’re choking on your own words, like you can’t breathe without him noticing, but you know there’s no hope. He’ll never know how you feel. He’ll never know that this love song is for him.