The Throng

i stare. you have this silly smile on your face and even from this far, i sense that you are happy. strolling along, you seem not to notice the crush of the throng, the milling multitudes of night-going freaks. my heart clenches because i know why you look to all the world like someone in love, because you are. "it" has it's arm around you and your hand, encompassing "its" waist. i term it as an "it" because i'm mean, i'm vicious . my heart is in the midst of a cataclysm. i don't want to pretend that i'm not a jealous, unreasoning, doting idiot, because i am.
i am jealous - because i've never seen you smile that way at me. i am unreasoning - because i could not understand why you consented to be with "it" and not me. i am doting- because inspite of it all, despite of it all, i still want you. yet you are oblivious, as you were for all this time. i have this memory of us, one of the few we spent alone, you were laughing about something mundane and i was watching you, in every appearance looking as if i was bored out of my mind, which, of course was a lie. since i met you, i've lived a lie. you see, beneath my mild, indifferent exterior, every sense of my being is captivated by your smile, by the sound of your voice. yet you did not know, you do not know, even now. i remember, i told you once in a joking tone, that i really wish you would find out how it feels to be enthralled by someone. i hope you find out how it feels like to have your breath leave your body everytime that someone comes into your line of sight. i hope you find out how hard it is to keep your eyes from someone, how your neck aches from the constant craning effort of keeping that someone in your peripherals.i hope you find out how it
is to be me. now, looking at you, i am aghast that my wish has been granted, you already know how it feels like to have found someone, unfortunately, that someone isn't me. i knew this day would come though, but i never thought it would be this soon. perhaps when i told you that inevitability, i was subconsciously and secretly hoping you would eventually come to accept me as i am, and welcome my affections. however, as in all tragedies, my heart was left bereft of all hope when you started going out with "it". the tables are turned. i would never know how it feels like to have my breath leave me because you would never smile at me the way you smile at it. i can only look at you from afar, pining, without you knowing, without you caring. maybe this way's better, at least you're happy, you are spared from all my weaknesses, my shortcomings. you are safe from my cynism and satirical outlook on life. my only regret is that i didn't at least tell you how you mean to me, i didn't say anything at all. maybe if i told you, things would have been different, maybe you would have given me a chance. isn't it ironic? i always was the one to go for the extremes. i always was up for a challenge. i just didn't go for you. now i'm within the realm of "what if's", could have's and maybe's. i'll just have to accept that you might have been mine. but truth is, "might's" are always infuriatingly not enough.