Hanging by the edge

i am hanging over a cliff. looking down at me, is the one i love. the sad thing is, he is just looking at me- not even moving a muscle. he’s just looking at me like a little kid gazing at a flower-curious. but i am happy. i am happy he does not move. i am too scared that if he moves- he might push me down. i am not waiting for him to extend his arms, instead of reaching over, he might push me away. i am happy to be hanging over this cliff. at-least here, i am nearer to him. at-least here, he looks at me. i don’t care if he doesn’t care- the only important thing is- i care. i don’t ask him to love me, i never did. and i don’t have the plan to tell him- he might turn around and walk away, leaving me hanging by the edge of loneliness. maybe, we’re just better off as friends. maybe it will be better to just hang on this cliff.