(From the contributor: “I was actually 16 when I wrote it — March 3, 1990 is the date in my little book.”)

UNTITLED

Seeing you across the room. Wishing you would come and ask the question.
Watching you with other girls.
I feel a slight pang in my heart. Not the knife wound I expected. I still care but my heart heals from the pain you caused and my tears are not for you.
At least, not for you alone. I cry for what could never be.
I cry for my new feelings. They are just as crazy- yet more so. It is he. I care for him now. Seeing him with Racheal caused me more pain than you ever could.
Why- why must it be Erik? Why can’t it be no one?