New Years Eve, some guy's 21st birthday in the upstairs part of a pub. I wasn't meant to be there, neither were you. Both our friends set us up by mere chance. It could have been any other girl from any other place but no, it was me. I knew what was coming: the awkward will he won't he, the small talk that leads into the kiss, the hope of something new.
You held my hand and for once in what felt like forever I was someone's something. I lost you in the crowd and the night went on, the thought of what might happen stuck in the back of my mind. I found you again, the alcohol giving me more confidence than I would usually have and again we kissed.
Then you uttered those words that no girl wants to hear "I can't". A million thoughts rushes through my head. Have I done something wrong? Am I not a good kisser? But no, there was someone else. Someone I know vaguely but know all the same. You say it's not serious and your friends later back you up. Being 17, I take this in my stride and enjoy the night that's left. We're teens after all, this is what teens do! I even kissed one of your friends for no particular reason other than it might get back to you.
I went home. This is when the feeling hit. New Years Eve was over. A new year had begun. But the only new thing I wanted was you. You'd made me feel like I hadn't felt like in a year and a half. And when would I see you again? The next social outing is in 37 days for Christ's sake! I can't wait that long! I am now stuck with this feeling. I can't stop thinking about you, that night, the other girl. Why did you go to her? Are you just being a gentleman and letting her down gently without her finding out about me? Or are you just playing with me, the easy target? God damn you!
37 days and I will have my answer. Until then, the feeling lingers like a disease within me.