Breathing out.

Hoping you still be there if I return. 

I’m scared, to not see you again and I hate myself for my foolish thoughts.

We’re kind of like two different worlds, you’re popular, good-looking, you have a girlfriend.

I’m that stupid Tomboy (girl that dresses and often behaves like a boy), I’m known too but in a negative way, I’m single…

I lean against the cold wall, the music being loud even outside the house. I wasn’t planning to go to this party, or at least I tried to not admit the fact that I just wanted to see you.

Some of my friends told me they were going too, so I told myself that it would be cool to party with them.

So here I am shivering because of the cold air, having a crush on someone who doesn’t even knows my name, being alone.

“Hey Tomboy”, someone shouts into my ear. I snap my head around, covering my ears. It’s a drunken boy from my high school. “What do you want?” I snap at him, not really amused of him calling me Tomboy. “Wanna make out?” He smirks dumbfounded much too close to my face, his alcoholic breath hitting my sensitive nose. My expression ends up between a discussed and scared look. “No”, I decide to slip past him and safe myself inside the house.  

Inside the house it’s not better. People crawling at each other everywhere, I wonder if this will end up in some kind of . I manage to pass a crowd of dancing people, but ending up standing awkwardly somewhere not knowing what to do. I can’t go to the dancing area and dance by myself, that’s too awkward, but standing around isn’t a good idea either.

Even if I wasn’t searching for you, my eyes snatch at you on the dance floor. You’re dancing with her, of course. I curse myself for feeling so hurt, seeing you hungrily sliding your hands all over her body. Cursing myself for wanting to be her again. But all I always do is staring, at you and her, never knowing how to change the situation.

I’m jealous of her; she is so beautiful, her long hair seems to fall perfectly, she has this perfect body, everyone loves her. But I know she is a witch, she might seem like an angel but if you look closely, she’s evil.

Some people look strange at me, but I don’t feel ashamed. I’m just not that kind of a person who likes dresses and pink. Right now I’m wearing sneakers, jeans, a cap and a shirt and of course no make-up.

 Most of the people which are here think a décolleté shows off all of your s and I don’t have any décolleté. So maybe it’s right what they call me: Tomboy, I’m not girly nor am I y. I’m just myself. And since we’re living in a society who likes to point at different kinds of people, I’m the perfect person for the gossip.

But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and so grew my ego with the years. But at one point I’m really shy, love. I merely can talk about it with my best friend. I feel like I can’t really express how I feel.

 So when you appeared my ego sank and crushed the floor, I didn’t even manage to talk to you. Ever. All I ever did and do is staring at you from far away. Knowing full well it will never change.

And then something in my mind changes. Like a door being pushed open.

I take a look at you again and I feel that it’s over. My ego has got itself up from the floor, standing upright. It’s like I look at you from a different ankle, did I ever noticed your ugly eyes? They are so… there is no word that could actually really describe it. Unspecial? You’re just a boy who will never look at me. So why do I have to spend all my live crying about that.

There will be someone who will love the way I look, the way I act, the way I am.

Even if it will take long I’ll wait for that, but I won’t hurt myself with someone like you anymore.

I leave the party, smiling because I can leave you behind without any worries and fears. Just looking forward  knowing that somewhere is someone who loves me, the tomboy.