More

I was nothing more than a girl
who buried her face
in the thick textbooks
of subjects she didn't care about.
All to try to please
a woman who never would
be proud of anything.

You were nothing more than a boy
who irritated me
on a daily basis.
Pestered me with words,
not very subtle insults.
And a smirk that I felt
one day I wanted to wipe off
that far too [deceivingly]
angelic face of yours.

And days dragged on and on.
And it felt you were determined.
To never leave me alone.
To annoy me until my
then-uncontrollable temper
flared out at you.
And would calm down, as always.
To simple, but glaring annoyance.
While you just shook your head.
And laughed.

And the days stretched
into weeks, and then months.
And eventually I learned
to get used to your
[unfairly] charming grin.
And you slowly made me
look up more and more
from the thin, old pages
and tiny, bunched-up ink stains.

We both know
how we both changed back then.
Slowly, daily. In small things
that later on, we realized
were big ones.
And suddenly you were more than just
an arrogant, sarcastic Australian.
And I was finally more
than that girl who got high scores
in math and science exams.

And I went through that phase
of needing you so badly
it started to destroy me.
While you,
still didn't believe in love.
And left, just as you always do.
Back to where your home was.
For only-God-knows how long.

And soon enough you were with [her]
Who brought out your rage,
with her need for perfection
and attention.
And I tried to ask
why it was her over me.
But back then you didn't care.
At least, until,
she drove your patience
to its snapping point.

And then you were more than just
everything that was bad for me.
It was as if the distance
had slowly shrunk until it was gone.
And you were my best friend.
Who knew me better than anyone else.
And you were the one whose,
surprisingly warm smile
sparked up those defiantly proud
sapphire eyes.

And I guess it was my fault
we messed up the first time.
Asked about her until you
just couldn't take it,
until you hated the way
I couldn't trust you.

[But can you honestly blame me,
when I heard the way
you talked about her back then?
She was the one with the blue eyes
and immaculate hair,
and I was just afraid
of losing you.
And I hate that I did,
for a while.]

And 6 months passed,
and I wondered if you had
any idea at all
of how much you've changed.
And all I did when I wasn't with you
was write out things
to try to explain to myself
how I fell for such an [idiot.]
(But no one else
could ever get away
with calling you that.)

And then you were so much more
than just my best friend.
You became the best damn thing
that's ever happened to me.
You brought out the rebel,
dying inside the unhappy academic.
You freed the dreamer,
the writer, the speaker,
inside this temperamental [brat.]

And the only thing, I guess.
That you couldn't do for me.
[Now that you're gone]
Was to teach this lost, little girl
how to live on without you.