Hatred's Blossom


I hated her for such a long time so how did this happen? She wasn't supposed to be able to do this; I wasn't supposed to be able to do this because this wasn't supposed to happen. It's just wrong. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to focus because of her. That terrible rage she filled my heart with just made me shut down. So again, how in hell did this happen?

Could it be the fact that she grew up? I don't know. Could it be the fact that I grew up? Probably not.

I can still remember that when we were young she looked at me with the eyes of an opponent. I didn't even know her, yet she continually attacked me with a volcano's intense rage and fury.

Once again, how did this happen? What could I have done differently? I don't like being angry, but how could THIS happen? Did I piss God off or maybe some spirit or something because for this to happen it had to be supernatural; nothing else makes sense.

Perhaps if I just admitted it, it would disappear.

All right, here it goes: I love her.


Nope my heart still seems to care about her, which makes no sense. It makes no sense that whenever I see her now, instead of a dull ache that aggravates me, I feel a desire to be with her. I want to hold her in my arms and kiss her! No one would ever be able to convince me that this is normal.

And what happened last night, that was probably one of the strangest moments of my life. Last night, was I drunk? Did I get drugged somehow? Was there something in the air?

I remember going to the dance. I honestly didn't want to go. Even the idea of going made me want to throw up. My parents bribed me and believe it took a lot to get me to that dance. Thinking about it now, despite my condition, I probably shouldn't have done it. Oh well, can't change the past.

I walked in seeing nothing but shadowy darkness and a couple dozen couples with their arms entwined. Then I couldn't comprehend why anyone in their right mind would bother going, still don't.

So I went in. I remember what I had been told: couldn't return home before nine o'clock. I looked around and thanked my good fortune for there being a few chairs that lined the walls.

I walked over to one and sat down. How much longer would this go on? I realized I might as well keep myself busy and focused on something; anything.

I looked over at her, the girl I couldn't stand: her. She had her arms on some tall guy like he was some kind of flotation device and she was in the middle of the Pacific. I watched her and him as they danced through the hazy darkness. I thanked my maker for my night vision; I was actually enjoying watching her. I realized, or maybe I was brain washed into believing, that even if she was a mean brat, she was very beautiful.

They must have been talking, probably about something stupid because he suddenly pushed her away. I vaguely remember hearing something about how she was a "dumb blond bitch." Despite my own hatred for her and the fact that I'd called her much worse on multiple occasions, my blood heated. Call me strange but I believe in honor and I don't believe calling someone you supposedly care about such things. I clenched my fists; it wasn't my place to intervene. What could I have done? I was out of my element.

I could see the lights reflect off her tear stained cheeks. Damn, I wanted to slug the bastard.

She ran out with her hands over her face. I silently stood up and began to make my way towards the door, a bit sooner than I had anticipated, but I welcomed the chance to be rid of the stale acrid air.

Once outside I took a deep breath. The cool night air filled my lungs and

heart with exhilaration. After a moment of relaxation in the pleasant scenery, I looked around. I saw her as she turned down a street. Where was she going?

I broke into a full run without knowing what I was planning to do. It didn't take me long to catch up to her.

"Hey! Wait," I called to her.

She turned around. I could see her makeup running; her lips were twisted in an expression of utter hopelessness, frustration and sorrow. My God I felt sorry for her. How could she let one person hurt her so much?

Momentarily her expression was replaced by confusion. "You," she said. I wondered what she was going to say next but she didn't manage.

What little control my unexpected appearance made was washed away in another second.

I thought she was going to turn again and run, instead she did something I never, not in a million years, would have expected. She didn't break into a run but she grasped onto me.

I returned her embrace somewhat awkwardly. "It'll be all right," I said to her. My mind seemed to be mush. I really didn't know what to do or even what to think.

She sobbed into my shoulder as I stroked her hair as I would if my dog was sick. What else could I do? I had no experience with that kind of thing; I still don't really.

Despite the awkwardness and uncertainty deep down I felt good. It felt good to have her in my arms. It felt good to be with her and to comfort her. A part of me I never knew I had opened up and came alive.

She pulled away from me and with a sniffle asked, "Why?" She was stronger than I would have expected.

For whatever reason I replied, "Because I thought you needed it."

She mouthed the words: thank you. Another moment passed and she returned to my embrace.

Maybe these feelings would just go away if I pretended that none of that stuff ever happened.

I got a note from her today. I haven't opened it yet. Honestly, I don't want to. I'm afraid that it'll say something like, "Thank you but don't even begin thinking that I might give a damn about you." Maybe she wouldn't be quite so crass, but I just don't know.

I open it. It reads:


I never would have figured you would actually care about something. You really surprised me by being there for someone else.

I was really touched.

I broke up with my boyfriend, I guess you saw what happened.

Tomorrow night 'wanna do something?

Thank you God.

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