Six months ago, one month ago, and last night.

Six months back I sent her a note on Facebook,
"I usually would do this over the phone..."
That sort of thing.
And got no response.

Last month I heard her speak
On her one year anniversary.
Good news for me, too
Or so I thought.
I asked her again, via Facebook, within a week of hearing her.
And this time, again, got no response.

My voices were shouting last night, a month after my second try:
When she was walking behind me during another meeting,
"My knees go weak when he's nearby."
That sort of thing.
And I felt a hope.
My mind likes to play tricks on me.

She is the most beautiful woman I've ever talked to, ever seen up close.
And I spent the day today,
The one after my voices played their game on me,
Wasting,
Daydreaming about her middle parts,
Soft to the touch and electrified
From my fingers' playful manipulation.

It will never be real.
Only in my head does she want me,
Love me,
Need me.
Only in my head does she really see me
When she looks at me.

I've spent most of my life wishing that I was happy.
Or just a little happier.