Here goes.
--
It's a whirlwind affair. Whipped up in a frenzy of freedom, sex, rock n' roll, and of course teenage hormones, it is easy to forget that the boy you've been spending all your time with is certifiably insane.
'But he's taking medication.' You tell yourself, but you know deep down, incredibly deep down, so far inside yourself that you'd hate for the thought to even consider showing its ugly head, that he is most definitely disregarding any type of pill he should be taking. You've found full prescription bottles in the trash on more than one occasion.
Of course he would never lie to you. That's just not the Smith thing to do, he doesn't… well, that's a crock of shit, and you know it. You've watched him deviously take down several people without raising a hand. Conniving, deceitful. Beautiful words to accurately describe Gary Smith to any stranger.
Maybe there's another side to the picture, something you are missing, because as soon as the sun sets, the basket case everyone else at the school knows disappears, and it's just you, and this hopeless romantic; heavy breathing amplified by the lack of light in the room.
But all that is gone with the rising sun. He is never there when you wake up. When you find him, he brings up the bully charade, mocking you, calling you names, and even turning people against you.
You wish you could tell him how you really feel, that the shallow angry sex is really starting to become inane, and you want something more… meaningful. But you can hear his response in your head.
"You're such a GIRL, femme-boy!" and he'll laugh, You know the laugh. Discomforting, psychotic, perhaps even rage inducing. But its a laugh you'll never forget, no matter how many other people you meet in your life.
Perhaps it's a Jekyll/Hyde phenomenon, something you could write a whole damn study on and win the Nobel Prize, but you'll never really understand for yourself. Perhaps you're just over thinking the whole thing.
You can't stop thinking, and it's all his fault. His fault that you can't sleep when he's not there, because you're worried he won't return. His fault that you get jealous when he does anything with any other living person ever, because you aren't sure if he's playing or flirting. His fault that your school work is beginning to suffer from lack of sleep.
You hate him. Hate him, hate him, LOATHE HIM times infinity, but regardless of how many times you tell yourself to hate the way he teases you, bullies you… looks at you… touches you that way… you can't stop. Your heart beats faster and faster.
Oh, how you love that bastard.
--
Review always appreciated.