I Know a Boy

I know a boy who is so beautiful it’s unreal. Everything about him makes me fall in love with him – over and over and over again. I know this is going to sound weird, but I think it’s all his imperfections that make me like him: his head is too small for his body, his mouth is too big, his lips are too red and his haircut is all wrong when he wears it that one way.  These are the things that I like most about him. Oh, and his dancing... do not get me started on the dancing.

Even if he can’t dance – like at all, which is fine because I can’t either – I could think of no better place than in his strong arms, rocking away like a baby being put to sleep by its mother. Surprisingly enough, it happens often: one minute, we’re on the couch, listening to music on my phone. Then a song that he likes will come on and the familiar call for me to turn it up, before I am pulled to my feet and into his waiting arms.

Speaking of waiting, that’s all I ever do. I wait for him to notice me, to realise that I’m right in front of his face. But can best friends really do that or is it only something saved for movies and TV shows? Maybe it’s better if he never knows. Maybe, if he never knows that the boy I complain about late at night is actually him, then I’ll avoid the pain of rejection and the heartbreak of losing my best friend.

I know a boy who is so beautiful, it’s unreal. The question is, does he really know me?