It’s time to make up your mind.

No more skirting around the issue, Mr. Subtle Glances and Two-Sided Comments.
                               I’m tired of grasping at thin air. (tired of lonely nights and runs in my tights.)

For a while, it was enough.
           Enough to dream, enough to imagine a false world revolving around just us.

                                                            But not anymore.

See, it’s not enough anymore.
                    I want real kisses: Not the ones I get sitting in the back row, third period.
While daydreaming and doodling little hearts in my notebook.
Imagining little scenarios with you and I.
                         (meeting in an empty hall. kissing against a locker, books fallen on the floor.)

                    I want you, all of you. Or none of you. None of this half-real, half-dream.
                                  (because God I love you. I’m desperately clinging to shreds of sanity here.)

I’m tired of watching you with other girls.
                                              (with their short skirts and dear God, it hurts.)

I want to know what it feels like, for once,
to walk hand and hand with someone.
To know just one other so intimately that they begin to feel like half of myself.

I’ve already given up my half to you, so I feel incomplete
until you give me half of yourself. And we can be two whole people
                                     with a combined soul.

I don’t want to feel like this. Weak, at your mercy. But it’s so much easier to feel this way than to not.

                 But this is it. One last moment, or I’m gone.