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February: I lay out my outfit, just like usual, 2 days before the day I wear it. I don’t remember when I started doing this, but I don’t even think it matters. It’s just routine. Just like thinking about Felix. I choose out some gray sweatpants (for the aftermath of Valentine’s Day. I need something comforting since I’ll be alone) as I overcompensate for every small look he gave me today.
It’s February 13th, in the season of love, and the time I feel most lonely. It’s not all the couples I see (no, it probably is), but the fact that Felix only sees me as a friend. I should be excited about the possibility of someone asking me out, like most people these days, but the truth is, I can’t handle confrontation.
If someone asked me out, I would start blushing. I would notice the heat in my face, check my reflection, see that I’m blushing, and feel a sense of dread. I hate blushing. That, in turn, would make me blush more. It’s an endless cycle, really, a physical manifestation of secrets I failed to keep. Great. My thighs would sting, and I would feel my knees start to give out. I would lean forward, falling enough to push them away, but not enough to make it appear as if I was making a move.
Just like all my relationships. I’ve never fallen enough, until I did. For my best friend. But he would never like me.
I’m just his hype boy.