She Still

She doesn’t have a crush anymore, and yet she still does. She doesn’t get those butterflies anymore, but maybe she still does and can no longer feel them. She still gets excited when he comes home at the end of the night, opens the door and calls her name. She still comes running to throw her arms around him and kiss his face.

She still gets tingles when he runs his hand down her back. She still gets nervous when they go out together, wonders if he’ll like her outfit, her hair, her makeup. Will she say the right thing? The wrong thing? And what if she does? Will he get mad, will he hate her, will he fall out of love?

She still thinks about these things, even though she knows it’s pointless. She still constantly wonders about what he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling. When they hug, she still wants to hold on so it’ll never end, she still breathes in his scent so that she’ll never forget it, like it’s the last time they’ll be that close. She still tries to memorize his voice, all the intonations and and funny phrases he uses so that she’ll always remember how it sounds when talks to her.

She still can’t believe that he picked her, that it’s been two years and she still looks at looks him with stars in her eyes. She still daydreams about their life together, if they’ll always be so happy. She hopes they will be. She still loves him more than she ever thought possible.

She still acts like a sixteen year old girl with a crush.