A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.

You're coming home. Homecoming queen, though you won't feel like that, back to a detached house and too much family.

But to me, you are a homecoming queen. You rattle my magnetic fields because the things that I feel aren't so certain when you respond, even in the vaguest sense, to any invitation. I know it won't lead to anything, and I know that you don't feel about me as I do for you; you never have, it's all one sided and I harbour no delusions. Yet I still can't rid my head of the possibility of you.

It's ridiculous, isn't it. Because I know that the person you adore isn't me. Why are magnetic fields so like Venn diagrams? Someone always gets left out. I hope you intersect with someone who knows your worth, because you are beautiful. I wish that there was some way of you knowing this without revealing my own identity.