As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me.
She was my so called “best friend”. I stared at her long, silky
hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that,
and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the
notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said
“thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I
want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her
but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

11th grade
The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears,
mumbling on and on about how her love had broke her heart. She asked
me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did. As I
sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she
was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of
chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said “thanks”
and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to
know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just
too shy, and I don’t know why.

Senior year
The day before prom she walked to my locker. My date is sick” she
said; he’s not going to go well, I didn’t have a date, and in 7th
grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would
go together just as “best friends”. So we did. Prom night, after
everything was over, I was standing at her front door step. I stared
at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I
want her to be mine, but she isn’t think of me like that, and I know
it. Then she said “I had the best time, thanks!” and gave me a kiss
on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t
want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I
don’t know why.

Graduation Day
A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it
was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an
angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but
she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went
home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged
her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, “you’re my
best friend, thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell
her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love
her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

A Few Years Later
Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married
now. I watched her say “I do” and drive off to her new life, married
to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like
that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and
said “you came!”. She said “thanks” and kissed me on the cheek. I
want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just
friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Funeral
Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be
my “best friend”. At the service, they read a diary entry she had
wrote in her high school years. This is what it read: “I stare at him
wishing he was mine, but he doesn’t notice me like that, and I know
it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be
just friends, I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.
I wish he would tell me he loved me!” `I wish I did too…` I thought…

Gracias caro por la historia, te quiero…