I walk the line in the presence of a girl who's sweet, kind, and cute. Her charming smile, innocent laugh, clear eyes, and warm demeanor make my heart melt in her presence. Even when she's mad, her tantrums are adorable. Everyone loves her.
I on the other hand am not that. I'm ragged 'round the edges, rough and worn. My laughs are sand paper, my smiles sarcastic, muddy eyes simply lie, and I am feared for my temper. I cannot be loved by any.
I don't know why she's still here even with all the problems I bring. I fuss and complain, unable to really control myself, yet she takes it all with a smile. Even with my fearsome temper, she hasn't abandoned me yet.
I really just wish I could hold her and tell her the way I feel, the way I see, why I do what I do, how I know what I know. My words are garbled and come out fractured, the splintered ends driving us apart, I know. It's sad, but it's the truth. We cannot truly be together no matter how much I wish we could.
I walk the line, and that's all there is. The line is what separates our existences to the point where it's painful to see her on the other side. Same but different, we exist in this world only to be unable to be together in the way I dearly wish for.
If I could, I would cross that line. Go over to her and hug her, tell her how I feel. It would be amazing if she responded in kind, but I know that it won't happen, that she'll brush it off and ignore the obvious. I'd lose her forever, and I can't let that happen.
So I keep walking this line and watching her from a distance, wishing to hold her but being unable to do so. Her sweet demeanor continues to kill me from the inside out, for it's my heart that's melting uncontrollably. The pounding in my chest and constriction of my breath only make me repeat the same thought in my head.
Sometimes I wish I had been born as a guy.