I should be happy.
I see him everyday, I can smell him, his seductive voice rocks my senses day by day. But I'm not.
During the last month we've worked side by side, we've spent much time together, sitting thigh-by-thigh, breathing the same air.
Once we've walked for a while after work, it was late in the evening and we were both tired. It was so natural walking silently, no shallow talk, no formality. That's what I've felt. But if it's true we would be much closer than we actually are.
It hurts me.
It grieves me that he smiles at someone, that he glances at someone, that he talks to someone. Someone who's obviously special to him.
I know every detail of his perfect face, I've learned his gestures and I can guess the pose he will assume in some specific context.
I know his tastes: he hates coffee, he prefers cold green tea, he never eats fats but prefers fishes and vegetables. I like pamper him with little kindness, I check that the fridge-bar is always stocked with his favourite drinks and fruits.
But I'm not special to him.
I should disappear tomorrow and he'll probably wonder if the secretary have changed hair color.