THERE WAS SIMPLY SOMETHING ABOUT HER.

Maybe it was the dimpled glow in her smile, the emphasis in her laughter, the beauty and meaning in every word she spoke.

Angela was beautiful in every way that mattered, though, I couldn’t love her.

It felt foreign, an impossible sentiment to grasp, it was unrealistic delusion for me to even imagine our lips touching. How she took a liking to me enough to become my friend was a mystery in itself.

If the goddess Aphrodite were a person, she’s taken the form of the dark eyed, beautiful woman wearing her dark hair in a messy bun.

Staring into my soul, waiting for me to tell her whatever it was I wanted to a few minutes ago.

_ I need to get something off my chest._

Yet not a syllable could leave my mouth.

I’d practically begged just a few minutes ago, what was it I wanted to say? The lines were all kind of blurring together now.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense.”

She grins, witty and careless. Not knowing that her best friend of 5 years was about to confess something so scary, whilst all his negative thoughts screamed at the surface of his mind:

Poor, pathetic Murphy, so self absorbed he’s willing to destroy his only friendship for a shot with a girl who definitely doesn’t like him back, you can’t even bring yourself to think it. . .

You’re a coward Murphy.

Shameless, too, so cmon, rip the bandaid off, NOT a love confession, but a profession.

“I love you, Angel.”

(WORDS - 191)