66/365 I Watched You Watch Me Walk My Girlfriend Home (For Charles Xavier Lacerte)

(This is a response to Charlie's stalker-y poem he wrote when he was 18.  It's meant to be a little stalker-y, but not as much as it ended up, so I need to work on it a lot more.)

I watched you, all right
Watched you watch me walk my girlfriend home
Listened every night to the stupid pet names you had
For the girl on your arm
Did you honestly believe she would find it endearing
To be called "Honey bunches of oats"?
There is no romance in processed sugar
And hastily forged pet names
Are for the shallow and  insecure.

You bet I knew you were watching
The way my girlfriend tossed her hair
The way we laughed together over private jokes.
Most of the time
We were talking about you,
Feeling your eyes lingering all the while.
That hand I slid so boldly
Into her back pocket
That was entirely for you.
I never do that kind of thing
It was just to keep you off that high horse
Thinking you and your little "frosted flakes:
Had something I didn't.

And maybe you did.
And maybe we should have called each other by pet names
And maybe there's a reason we didn't.
And now we never will
But don't go thinking you have anything to teach me.
We had nothing in common but a relationship status and a street
And then we didn't have that anymore.

I watch your new girlfriend make me a burrito to order
Day after day, without you anywhere in sight
I've read her poem, rife with innuendo
So I know she would see the irony
If only she knew the whole story

She laughs at my jokes
Smiles her biggest smile, each time
And teases back
If only you could see this
If only you could be a fly on that wall
Helpless while I order mine
With extra sauce.

You said you wanted to share what you had
With me.
As though I would want you to give me anything.
As though I wasn't already taking it from you
On my every lunch break
With every smile she gives me
When I tell her, 
"Yes, my little Golden Graham.
I will have a nice day."