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My heart flutters when she looks at me. The butterflies in my stomach flap their wings in despair, hopelessly fighting the acid that threatens to swallow them, destroy them. Their desperation is the perfect mirror for mine. Because she doesn't look at me; she looks through me, as though I were invisible. She’s not the only one either, but she’s all that matters. I’ve never been popular but at the same time it’s been a long time since I've felt so alone. People treat me like I don’t exist. I hear them talking about me as though I weren't there. It’s unbearable – like being conscious whilst a surgeon is
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Literature
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My heart flutters when she looks at me. The butterflies in my stomach flap their wings in despair, hopelessly fighting the acid that threatens to swallow them, destroy them. Their desperation is the perfect mirror for mine. Because she doesn't look at me; she looks through me, as though I were invisible. She’s not the only one either, but she’s all that matters. I’ve never been popular but at the same time it’s been a long time since I've felt so alone. People treat me like I don’t exist. I hear them talking about me as though I weren't there. It’s unbearable – like being conscious whilst a surgeon is
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