I cannot leave here, I cannot stay…

We’re walking side by side—or rather—trying to. It’s pretty crowded here. Surprisingly, it’s just him and me. “Common,” he says, grabbing my hand to lead me through the crowd. Never thought something like that would happen; I can’t help but feel excited and nervous. Silly I know, but I’ve never held his hand.

Forever haunted, more than afraid…

We come to a stop as the crowd becomes denser and more difficult to travel through. He’s still holding my hand as we are forced to walk at a meandering pace, waiting for more breaks in the swarm to appear. “Is it true? Do you like me?” He asks, startling me. When did he find out? How did he find out? He looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I can’t help but freeze. What should I say?

Asphyxiate on words I would say…

I hesitate, not quite sure what to say, and torn in a multitude of directions. There could be so many approaches to answering this question. Yet before I can come up with a decent strategy or answer, I hear myself saying, “Yes.” So much for having time to deliberate. Our hands are still linked…is that my fault?

I’m drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue…

“Whoa…” is all he says. Now I’m really nervous, I can feel my stomach turning. I fumble for words to say; anything to make the situation better. “Will you walk with me around that soccer field?” I ask impulsively, jerking my head in the direction of the field. So much for making the situation better. Why am I not able to come up with something decent to say?

There are no flowers, no, not this time…

Now it’s his turn to hesitate. Not a good sign. Better go with what I started. “Please?” I press, “It won’t take long, I promise, and by the time we’re done, you’ll be ready to go.” Contemplating it a minute, he consents, “Alright”. Now I take the lead, breaking away from the thinning crowd and heading towards the field. As we walk, our hands remain clasped. My fears resurface; are we still holding hands because of me? Am I holding on too tight?

There’ll be no angels gracing the lines…

As we walk in silence, I test my grip, flexing my hand, and loosening my grip. While I do not try to remove my hand from his, I give him plenty of opportunity to take his hand from mine. We still remain hand in hand. All I can now assume is that we remain like this not only because I want to, but because it suits him as well. “How long?” He asks, taking my attention away from our hands. “How long have you liked me for?”

Just these stark words, I find…

I answer without hesitation this time, he already knows, there is nothing left to hide. Replying, I think aloud as I answer. “Uh…about one…two….maybe three months into first semester last year? A long time I know,” I said, throwing him a glance, “go ahead and laugh if you want to. I’ll understand.” “No, no,” he says, shaking his head. I find myself continuing on, “and you know what? I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve had to keep this a secret. I’m sorry that I feel this way. It’s not right. I swear though—I’ve tried so hard time and time again to not feel this way, but I can’t help it. Please… I don’t want our friendship to get weird now just because you know the truth…”

I’d show a smile, but I’m too weak…

My alarm clock shatters the rest of the scene. Again, such interactions are only a dream. What is with me? Why do I dwell on such things?…must be the jealousy. Lately he’s becoming even closer to her and I have absolutely no clue where I stand with him. Also, it’s now even become a greater fear that she might actually like him back. Silly though, I already know I stand no chance. If I haven’t been able to catch his eye and draw his attention away from her by now, I don’t think I ever will. We’re probably too good of friends now for him to see me like that anyways.

I’d share with you, could I only speak…

My emotions—now about a year after I first started seeing him this way—haven’t really dulled. They’ve stabilized; I’m not prone to feeling drastic mood changes all because of him anymore, but my emotions are definitely still affected by him. He doesn’t even notice. No, he’s too drawn in by her.

Just how much this, hurts me…

See? What did I say: I’m jealous. Try as I might, I can’t help it. I also now can’t help but think that I’m going to like him for quite some time more…and I know that with each passing day, I have no chance of being with him. This might just explain my sudden fetish with internet romance stories. I search and search on the internet, trying to find ones I can connect with. Yet nothing really quite fits with my situation…nothing quite gives me hope, nor lets me pretend that I’m the main character, and that I’m reading my successful romance.

I cannot stay here, I cannot leave…

How long is it possible for someone to wait? How long is one high school aged girl able to hold onto feelings that can’t be returned? This isn’t love. This is just a crush. I refuse to believe that as an average high school girl, I am capable of feeling love for the opposite sex. I do not love him. Yet… I like him—a lot. Just thinking about my crush makes me think back to him and her. If he asked, would she go out with him? I might recall that question being shot at her once….and I may recall her answer being that she doesn’t want to go out with him. Or was that someone else who said that? Or even worse, was that just something I dreamed or imagined her saying?

Just like all I loved, I’m make-believe…

Who really knows. No, I’m not insane. I do know the difference between dreams and reality. It’s just…sometimes I can be so hopeful—too hopeful. What can I say? All this is naivety at its best. I’ve created this illusion, and it’s captured me. So vivid…so alive…yet so fake. In the end, he gravitates to her. In the end, he centralizes around her.

Imagined heart, I disappear…

I’ve tried to escape the hurt, the emotions and the illusion. It’s pretty hard though. When you’ve lived for so long in a half-dream like state, allowing your mind to block out the obvious because it was so painful, it becomes hard to return to a disillusioned state.

Seems…

These early morning confessions cascade through my mind as I proceed to get ready to face the day. Another wonderful day: filled with too much of the same. The same frustrations, the same hopes, the same hurts, the same results. I’m far too young to be cynical, but look at me, already surrendering to the belief that love is an endless war that wages on around me. I am the forgotten and wounded soldier, the one left on the battlefield to rot, while being forced to watch my peers surge forward to triumph.

No one will appear here and make me real…

Bowl of cereal in hand, I think that it’s high time I attack that article for the school paper. Call me a nerd, a loser, or whatever you like. Sadly, it’s true, I write for one of those hardly-read not even recycle-bin worthy things that the school likes to try to pass off as a ‘newspaper’. Go me.

There are no flowers, no, not this time…

Too bad, as per usual, I can’t concentrate. It’s far too early to be bothering myself with such things. After all, it’s…7:00 in the morning…on Valentine’s Day. How ironic that I had yet another dream about him on this “holy love day.”

There will be no angels gracing the lines…

Guess it’s just a little over rated, but I hate Valentine’s Day just as much as the next single person—or more specifically—girl, does.

Just these stark words I find…

Happy Valentine’s Day!! Reads the card left for me by my mother and father. A cynical smile tugs at my lips, at least someone loves me. Hah, could I sound any more emo? Probably not. Better at least return the favor—my parents really are too kind. Leaving a box of chocolates and card for each, my Valentine’s Day is now complete.

I’d show a smile, but I’m too weak…

The ride to school is even more fun than usual. Today my eyes get to be assaulted by every possible shade of red, pink and white. My ears get to be attacked by the shrill squeaks of surprise from girls whose boyfriends surprise them, and my heart gets torn to pieces to boot. What a wonderful day. Yup. I love this ‘holiday’ as much as the next person. Honest. I do.

I’d share with you, could I only speak…

Ahh, there they are. My eyes settle on the two of them. Boy, they’re here early. It’s just the two of them…and soon to be three. Breathing deeply, I take a breath, trying to cover my scowl with a smile and the hurt in my eyes with laughter. This can’t be too hard. I just have to refrain from glaring, and unclench my jaw.

Just how much this hurts me…

They greet me simultaneously, and share a grin over it. Yeah, how cute. Get over it you two. Bah, and there I go again. I really wasn’t kidding when I said I angered easily. Two deep breaths later and my cool has returned. I will not be so angry, so cynical…so jealous.

I’d tell you how it haunts me…

As more people file into the halls, and the school begins its decent to over crowdedness, I don’t pay much attention to anything. Half of my mind is focused on the couple to my left—more specifically, he and she— and the other half of my mind on blocking out the annoying things that make up Valentine’s Day.

I’d tell you how it haunts me…

“You alright?” She asks—the object of my jealousy. I should have known she’d notice…she’s known me far too long. Oh well, time to start the act. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Uh-oh. That look definitely means she doesn’t believe me. Now, here comes the protest. Before she can even voice her doubt, I cut in, “seriously. You know how much I dislike this ‘holiday’. It’s just another hallmark-excuse for us to spend money.” Yay for the age-old reason for disliking this holiday!

Cuts through my day, and sinks into my dreams…

A slight frown creases her brow, not detracting from her beauty in the least. What a lucky girl. Nature—or god, whichever you prefer—certainly blessed her in the looks department. “I know…but…if something was wrong, you’d tell me…right? You know I’m here for you.”

I’d tell you that it haunts me…

I smile a genuine smile. My first of the day. “Yeah, I know…and you know what? Thanks. I’m glad I can always count on you.” She cares…and boy does that make it harder to remain jealous and cynical. I can feel my self-engineered bad mood evaporating. How can I stay mad at her? She’s one of my oldest friends. It’s not like she’s done this on purpose or something. Fate’s not fair, but I’m going to have to accept it sooner or later…and this is no reason to dislike her.

Cuts through my day, and sinks into my dreams…

Satisfied that she’s looked after me, she shines one more smile in my direction before she turns back to him. They’re so happy talking like that…and they do make a rather cute couple. They deserve each other.

You don’t care that it haunts me…

She’d stay out of my way if she was in my position. I’m sure of it. So that’s what I have to do. I’ll only continually tell him how I feel in my dreams. Those words aren’t meant for real-life anyways.

Oh!!!

The bell rings, jolting me out of my reverie. Time for class. Time to concentrate, and no more time for moping and thinking. The teacher-editor of the school paper certainly won’t be happy that I haven’t finished that article though. Too late, can’t be helped now.

There are no flowers, no, not this time…

Chemistry’s boring. Boring as the rest of my classes are boring. So boring that everything kind of dulls into a haze and melts into the next thing. So boring that I can hardly register that the day has ended and that soon I can go home. Lucky for me Valentine’s hasn’t been so bad. The shades of pink were only a little bit harsher than last year, and the shrieks were only a little bit louder. Nothing too exaggerated or difficult to persevere through.

There will be no angels gracing the lines…

As I predicted this morning, there is nothing for me throughout the day. Well…that’s not exactly true. There’s some candy from some of my friends, and a few people bid me a happy Valentine’s Day. I return the favor and even managed to produce some candy for my friends. Yet I suppose what I really meant was that there was nothing from him; or from anyone who might possibly like me as more than just a friend. Oh well. I didn’t really hope for it in the first place.

Just these stark words, I find…

We hardly spoke today—him and I. He was just so busy with classes…and with her. They’re not even going out. Yet they might as well be. Still, at least he wished me a happy Valentine’s Day. That’s something for my mind to hold onto, and perhaps to dream about tonight. Lame huh?

I’d show a smile, but I’m too weak…

The final bell rings, and I join the crowds. Freedom lies just within reach after hours of dull boredom. Freedom, Freedom, Freedom. This is the chant I march to as I rush to my locker as quickly as possible; I want to escape all this pink-white-and-red. I just want to go home.

I’d share with you, could I only speak…

My lock spins and I’m in my locker within a matter of seconds and—what’s this? A note. I’d recognize this writing anywhere. It’s his.

Just how much this hurts me…

Thanks for everything. You’ve helped me a lot this year. With school, with life, with friends…with pretty much everything. Thank you and Happy Valentine’s Day.

Just how much this hurts me…

Short, simple…sweet. I read it once. Twice. Three times. The noise that bubbles around me quiets to a dull rush, and I am focusing on this note with all of my senses. Chancing a glance up, I see similar notes in my other friend’s hands. So he wrote something to everyone…I shouldn’t have expected any less. A soft sigh conveys my disappointment, but my face shows nothing. Looking back to the note, I read it again. Raising my eyes, I finally allow myself to search for him in the crowded hall. Spotting him…

Just how much you…

Our eyes meet, and he smiles. A smile that makes my day that much brighter. A smile of my own covers my face as he mouths the words, ‘thank you’. Nothing more, and nothing less. Perhaps this day wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be.

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Well, another update here, and this time, it's to the lyrics of "This Time Imperfect" by AFI. Good song, good band, you know the drill. Thanks for the reviews guys. It means a load to me that people out there are reading this, and what's better: REPLYING!! Look forward to the next chapter, because it's going to be coming eventually. I'm looking at maybe three-four more chapters...and then that's it. We'll see and I hope LIAB will continue to have your support.

Thanks for reading
Dis