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I don't know, but I want to say it.
I want to tell him.
————
His eyes, blue, crystalline, dreamy, captivate me when he stares at me during a concert.
They make me almost forget what song I'm playing, honestly.
I don't really know if it's “Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now” or “I Don't Owe You Anything”, I can never find out.
Or also, when we all go backstage, to take a long break, or a short one, but a break nonetheless.
Johnny talks to him, Mike hardly ever does, but not me.
I just... I just decide to pretend I'm playing my bass. But, really, I'm playing my heart, my beating heart, which is tenderly in love.
So, I choose to avert my eyes, which are looking for a chance not to be seen by him, but —unfortunately— that's the first thing I always try to achieve.
He's half-slouched over the armrest, his knees curled up on an old, threadbare armchair, his gaze reached me and lingered on me, on his bassist...
I decide to take a breath and return to reality once more. I look up at the ceiling, and just when I want to throw myself onto the cold, worn backstage floor, littered with confetti, petals, and grime, so he'll finally come closer and notice me as I so desperately want him to... But, I realize that, miserably, I can't.
He's so engrossed in Johnny that he can't tear his eyes away from him.
It will always be just the two of them for all the fans. Just Morrissey and Marr. I never had anything of theirs, I mean, to make myself noticed by others...