Shoot First.

So it was an epic disaster, we thought there should have scoreboards.

I sat. Directly across from you. I. Was. Absolutely. Crushed.

But life goes on and I'm a soldier by now. You've got to carry on, you've got to come through, you've got to stay smiling even when it kills, pretty girl. Smile up and on, and laugh the loudest. No one likes a pout.

In a way, I want you to know. I wanted you to feel as rotten as I did, whether or not you deserved it. I don't care how stupid that is; and all of my friends can say what they want to about me. I needed to bring you down even if that was the only place we'd even have any contact. I never told you, never will. (unless you asked?) The words seem so foul I'll never say... you go first. I ran away because I can't hide my facial expressions yet, I'm still learning. I refused to let you near me because I needed you to go away. I needed to make you not exist. I don't care if you don't understand. I know you don't know me well enough to understand.

Do you?

If I could, I'd tell you. I'd tell you how sorry I am I hurt your feelings back then, how seeing you there this week made me understand. I'd tell you that you fascinate me, that I get such a kick out of you. That I can't find comfort when you're around, just hoping you notice me. That I'd love to know you beyond the ridiculous shallow conversation we share when we aren't arguing simply for the hell of it. I want to know your stories, what makes you cry. I want to know what makes you get up in the morning, what you dream of doing. Who you admire. Have you ever been embarrassed? What was the highest moment of your life? I want to know what makes you laugh. I want to know if you like the rain, the color green, your favorite book. Are you ever afraid? You once told me no one listens to you.

I want to tell you I'd listen for hours, if only you'd talk to me, not at me like we always do.

I don't trust easy, and don't give away my time or affection at all. After years of feeling nothing, I don't want to hang on the arm of anyone. And, the truth is, I am happy. My friends will tell me, what a shame. I say I am, at last. I finally am. Seeing my own name on the setting at last, it feels differently than the plus one they strive so ferevently for.

But sitting across from you, surrounded by people in the crowd, the only person I could see with us was her.

And you were gorgeous.

And, it was then, there, I was alone.

I really am sorry, and not just because you hit back. You have no idea at all what I'd give to take it back. To erase every horrible thing I ever did to you. To go back to the day I met you and change it all.

But, I can't. I couldn't. So we sat, at a stalemate.

Stalemate.

I'd even try saying something terrible now, just for movement. Just to know I mattered in some way. To know I could still get under your skin, could get where I used to be.

At one point, I looked up and across. You smiled back as we locked eyes, you had been looking at me. I looked away, immediately, thanking whatever gods may be my makeup was thick enough to hide the extent of my blush.

Did you see me?

I think things will get better. I know so.

Just shoot first.