Why can’t I just move on?
Why don’t I just stop thinking about you?
Or caring for you.
Why does the smile peeping out at me tell me a story,
But the same bent head, tell me another completely different tale?
And why O why do I not stop wishing that you’d stay and talk for a while

Could you really never tell that I was falling…falling real deep

Why do I care so I much
Why does my day start by looking out for you,
And end completely dependant on the mood you carried with you, as you perhaps decided to stop and say hi.

Did I really never mean anything at all?
If I hadn’t called you all that time, would you have called?
Or maybe have given me at least a missed call?
Or did you tolerate me for hours just because you’re a flirt- as the world incessantly continues to point out to me
Or perhaps you did like me, just a bit?

Do you ever stop and remember a girl who unwittingly began to adore you
Who listened to her friends for the very first time
And allowed herself to Fall.