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I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why...

10th Grade: As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so-called "best friend". I stared at her long, silky hair. I wished she were mine, but she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. After class she walked up to me and asked me for the notes, she had missed the day before. As I handed them to her, she said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why...
11th Grade: The phone rang; it was her on the other end. She was in tears, mumbling on and about how her love had broken her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she were mine. After two hours, a Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said "thanks" and kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her. I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends. I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why...
12th Grade: The day before prom she walked to my locker. "My date sick," she said. "He's not going to go." Well, I didn't have a date and in 7th grade we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, We would go together just as "best friends," so we did. Prom night, after everything was over I was standing at her front door step. I stared at her. She smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn't think of me like that, and I knew it. Then she said, "I had the best time, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her. I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends. I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why... A day passed. A week passed. A month passed. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and she cried as I hugged her. Then, she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, "You're my best friend, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her. I want her to know that I don't want to be friends. I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why... A Few Years Later: I sat in the pews of the church. She was getting married, now. I watched her say, "I do" and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine but she didn't see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said, "You came!" She said, "thanks!" and kissed me on the cheek. I wanted to tell her. I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends. I love her, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why...
Funeral: Years passed, and I looked down at the coffin of the girl who used to be my "best friend." At the service they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read: I stare at him wishing he were mine. But he doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I wanted to tell him. I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends. I love him, but I'm just too shy. And I don't know why... I wish he would tell me he loved me. I wish I did too. I thought to myself, and cried.






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