I notice an uncomfortable weight in my heart. Why do I care so much this boy, and why would I like it not? How is it possible for a single person to confuse me in this way? What is this? Is it lust? Or something completely different? Is it possible that I feel like this without him corresponding to me? He said he liked it. He said it. And, although he was like a Cuba, he would not have said it if there was no minimum of really in his words, right? Don't know. As always I am with him, I don't know anything.
"I notice an uncomfortable weight in my heart. Why do I care so much this boy, and why would I like it not? How is it possible for a single person to confuse me in this way?"
The narrator struggles to understand her intense feelings for a boy, questioning whether it's lust or something deeper. She acknowledges that he has expressed his feelings, which adds to her confusion, yet she remains...