Unspoken

Chapter 2

"All of these mixed emotions, tangled up in pure confusion. It's hard to let go of the past, but it seems easier as time is moving. Well, you said he makes you laugh and he makes you happy. He sees you smiling back. It is everlasting. And so he's tailor-made for you. With stunning golden hues. And one sweet tone to soothe. Your persistent beating heart it's just a start. And I have seen you every day. You've never been like this before. He's tailor-made for you." Tailor Made-Colbie Caillat

I remember the first time he walked into the classroom. I had seen him around the halls but this was the first class I had with him.

He drew me in without even realizing it. Without uttering a word to me. I always wondered if it was like that for him but I never got around to asking him, now I'll never have the chance.

I tried to push the feeling away from my mind.

He was a cool kid. He was in the popular group. Me, I was the invisible girl, the one who got sick too often, the one with a little group of friends. I didn't mind that though, but it was just another reason I couldn't let myself think of him. Another reason I couldn't get attached, another reason I couldn't get my hopes up. But I always did, and I always ended up disappointed and broken-hearted. The hope always came crashing down no matter how are I tried to keep it low. Mom once said it was because we lacked something growing up, and now we are searching to fill that emptiness we had inside of us. I don't know if that's true or if this was just the way it was. But I had known for a long time I wasn't "right" or normal.

I watched as he smiled and said hello to a girl in the class.

Little did I know that she was going to become one of my best friends.

I pushed all thoughts of him from my mind.

Only months later when being told a different guy liked me did I realize I had feelings for Kasten.

The friend, Ana, told me this information but all I could do was stare at Kasten, frozen, thinking how much I'd rather be with him. I wanted to be his and his alone, even if the chances were slim.

Kasten noticed me staring and asked, "What?"

"Nothing," is what I told him. There was no way I was going to tell him that I liked him. I couldn't put myself out there like that.

I wasn't known for speaking my mind, and I wasn't going to start now. I was too shy, too weak to speak my mind.

All these things--and more--were going through my mind while my heart freaked out, making me feel weirdly uncomfortable.

This led to the first real conversation with Kasten. I was enjoying myself tremendously. I could be myself with him, loud and annoying, and all he would do was laugh and give me that special smile with a look in his eye that made my heart flutter. It took everything I had not to thrust myself into his arms at that moment. To let him take me away--away from all my pain. To let him walk out that door without saying something more.

As fate would have it, things didn't work out with the other guy. Only a couple of weeks later we had stopped talking, and I found myself not really minding. Don't get me wrong, I was sorry that I had to put him through any of this but things happen for a reason--or so they tell me.

The next thing I knew I was being told Kasten liked me, this was his number and I should talk to him.

Of course, it didn't take too long to cover the "I like you" stage. Plus the great thing was it wasn't awkward around him, or dull for that matter.

Oh, the stories he would tell me. I always wanted to see pictures. Especially for one story, the one of him sleeping on the table when the little neighbor girl, who also did his hair, covered him with a pink blanket. He told me he didn't have any photos though.

"Why didn't you take any pictures?" I demanded to know after he finished a different one of his stories.

"The backyard was on fire! I didn't have time to take a picture," he responded in his jumpy, husky voice.

"One of you could put out the fire and the other take picture," I joked. "What about after the fire was out?"

He chuckled. "Too busy getting in trouble with my mom."

I shrugged. "I guess that makes sense."

I loved to hear him talk. I loved how anyone could see the light and love in his eyes when he talked about his family. Especially his little sister.

There were moments he would not respond to my texts only later did I find out he was holding his baby sister because she was crying. This--out of many things--I admired about him.

He never did show me any pictures of any of his adventures. I don't know why. Maybe he never got the time to, or maybe it wasn't the right time or it could have been he didn't want to. Maybe he didn't want to open up to me that much. Maybe he knew from the beginning he wasn't going to stick around.

I never met the friend that helped him through a rough spot. I never got to thank them for what they did for him. We never got around to a lot of things.

Worst, though, is that I never got to be there for him. Not that I was looking to "save" him but it's just he never opened enough up and talked about his problems. I don't know why. I don't know if it was because he was scared or hated seeming weak, or if he feared that I wouldn't see him the same. Maybe it was all just a game to him.

He took me with my scars; I would have done the same thing for him.

I already had too much on my plate, but to help him I'd have gladly had a second helping.

Why? Some of you may ask. And I can tell you exactly why.

I loved him.

I love him.