trumpets and xylophones

I wonder sometimes what I did to make you so bipolar around me. One second you're leaning elbows on my knees and the next you're leaning away - eyes averted, bitten tongue, stiff muscles and crossed arms.

You make me feel uncomfortable, but that's not a bad thing. I'm scared of putting my head on your shoulder, and that's okay. I'm scared of your embrace, and this is a good thing, really. Can't you see that means I care in intimate ways that fool others of indifference? It's hard liking you, but that's a glorious thing and the future will have written songs with trumpets and xylophones about this unrequited love.

I close my mouth and think too much around you, now that's a bad thing. Horrid, really. I should tell you how it aches to see her running petite fingers through your hair. Because one second you're leaning elbows on my knees and the next you're leaning into her hand - eyes closed, lips quirked, at ease and completely smitten.