He's my weakness, not that I'll ever admit it out loud. He's the one thing I want more than anything else in the world, and I can't have. So I fight him, try to stay angry with him all the time . It's easier that way.

I tell myself I have keep up my charade. I tell everyone how much he annoys me. I complain about every move he makes to my friends. I love to berate his taste in girls I insist that it's just disgust but in truth it's jealousy that I'll never have a chance with him.

I just keep talking about him. In the back of my mind a voice is always warning me that one of these days my friends might notice how much I talk about him might question how I really feel about him. I can't help it though. He's always on my mind, his name always on my lips.

I'll never be the right girl for him, I know that. He'll never be able to care about me, not the way I care about him. The knowledge of that fact eats away at me, day and night.

I always thought I was strong but now I hate myself for being this weak Still I would love any morsel of kindness from him, any show of friendship. I want him so badly, in any form I can get him, not that he'll ever know. Not that anyone will ever know.

I'm only here for two more years before we graduate. Then I can leave and forget about him. I just hope I can let go enough before the time comes to go to be able to take my heart with me.

It will be easier then, when he's not always there. I can't forget about him here. I try, truly I do, but part of me always knows when he enters a room.Part of me just can't help but sense him there.

Whenever he's near I can't make myself stop watching him, I know it's dangerous, that someone could see my constant stares and discover my secret oh so easily.

Still I watch. It hurts, but in a bittersweet way. My heart breaks with every innocent touch between us, and yet at the same time pieces that momentary warmth almost seems to piece my heart together again.

The truly sad part is I'm only pretending to hate him, but I think he might really hate me.

Maybe he even hates me as much as I love him, who knows. The thought makes me want to cry, and yet seemingly from the depths of insanity that love sems most prevalent in a though comes that brings a slight smile to my face.

You know that old saying: There's a thin line between love and hate.

Maybe I do have a chance, you never know.

It's not likely though. He'll just keep breaking my heart without even realizing, and then I'll leave, taking what's left of my heart with me.

Still, I can't help but hope, wanting so badly for that thin line to be crossed...