Invisible

I am invisible.

Fucking invisible.

Imagine this.

There you're sitting. In your seat; number seven. One headphone in your ear the other dangling somewhere around your chest. Trying to be casual, you'll mainly stare out the window to your left, watching kids walk past and board other buses. That's what others assume you're doing. Just watching. You know the truth. You're looking for him. That beautiful, beauitful boy. He doesn't walk past that window though. Then all too soon, he's getting onto the bus. Your eyes dart to the front and take him in. His tan skin, his beautiful mouth, wavy brown hair, chocolate eyes. Hell, you even notice what he's wearing that day. Whether it may be a blue beanie, a red t-shirt where you can see see the outline of his chest, the chain on his shorts, or even if he tried to match. You will notice. Because that's what you do.

Every day you will notice. You'll notice the headphone he has in his ear, just like yours. You'll notice how his eyes scan for a seat. You'll notice how he stands.

You'll also notice how he doesn't notice you.

Because you watch. You don't speak.

Because you're shy.

You're invisible.

Fucking invisible.

And God, does it hurt.