Unwritten

Unwritten

I can never find the right way to organize my words. I watch her stroll down the congested halls of the school, surrounded by her friends. There was no way I could ever approach her, I was just too shy and afraid I would make a fool out of myself in front of so many people.

Instead of speaking to her I decided it would be better to slip an anonymous note through the slits of her locker. Locking myself into my room after school I unclipped the lightly used notebook from my binder and reached for the pen on my desk. It couldn't be that hard to write a short letter and sneak it in before she came to get her books in the morning. Staring at the blank lined paper, my pen wouldn't move to write a single letter. I was always an excellent writer, receiving perfect scores on my short story assignments in English. Never have I had this much trouble getting my words on paper. Maybe if I just think hard enough, it'll eventually form and the pen would pour out my thoughts perfectly.

* * *

It had to have been hours of sitting in the chair at my desk. The sun was gone, replaced by the crescent moon and sparkling stars. The only source of light in my room now was emanating from the lamp in the corner of my desk. The wire trash can at my feet was over flowing with scribbled out and crumpled paper. It was so overflowed that the paper had managed to spread across the hardwood flooring of my room. I had gone through two notebooks and dried out almost six pens! Whenever I started to write, I couldn't get past the first paragraph without hating every word I wrote.

After another two hours I think I dozed off. The buzzing of the alarm on my phone tore me out of weak slumber. The pale light of the sunrise filled the room and the bulb of my lamp has even burnt out. Six-thirty, I would have to go to school in twenty minutes. There was no way I could write something meaningful in such a short amount of time. I didn't see a point in the letter anymore.

In the hall, I repeated the routine of watching her from afar in the hall. Hopefully, one day, I'll be able to give her one of those letters that scatter across my bedroom floor, or better yet muster up the courage to speak to her directly.