Her...

The problem with us lies in how we began. We've been friends so long that I think it's difficult for you to draw the line. You forget the equation has changed. Hasn't it? There is an alien green monster in the pit of my stomach that roars every time you mention her carelessly. I notice how you try to seem nonchalant as her name rolls off your lips but your eyes light up with latent excitement. It seeps into the darkest corner of my mind and reminds me that there is a piece of your soul I will never have access to, the part of you that belongs to her. I wonder if you long her when we touch or if your heart races as much when we kiss. I see you smile to yourself as you flick lazily through your book and I wonder if it's a story about her that I already know. I want to believe there will be a time when your words will stop being dedicated to her, when our moments will not bear the shadow of her presence and when your eyes glaze over in that naughty smile I know of but haven't experienced, I can dare to believe it's me you're smiling for.