He Loves Me (Or He Loves Me Not) He talked to me the other day. His words made me think that he loved me, maybe . . . But maybe he did not. My heart leapt at the thought of him loving me . . . Imagine . . . I pictured him holding me, caressing me, And shivers rippled through my body. As I thought about it more, I began to love him more, And the world seemed suddenly brighter, Knowing that I was loved. But then I started to think. Maybe I misinterpreted his friendliness. Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to, a friend . . . And maybe he did not love me at all. Maybe it was just my foolish hopes clouding my senses. Suddenly, my world darkened, And I began to cry. I knew that maybe he did not love me. I was lonely again. Then, I thought again that he might love me. After all, it was possible . . . Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe he really did love me, and was too shy to express it. I almost asked him if he loved me . . . But I could not. I was too shy to ask. I could not have him laugh at me, knowing I thought that he loved me, When he did not. I did not want to scare him away, losing a friend, by suggesting love. My mind swam with confusion. I needed to know how he felt . . . I could not ask. January 28, 1996