THE OTHER DAY I was pleasantly walking down the hall of my high school, when I happened to catch the acts of a caressing couple. They each shared the quiet murmurs, curious glances and quickly stolen kisses only to have their world shatter at the shrill sound of the afternoon bell.
While they clung to each other, believing every word they whispered would hurt there sweet loves ears. They waited till the very last moment to udder those crushing words of:
See you next class.
Whilst I slammed my locker door I hear them; through the last little noise of the people that are effected by 'next class phobia'. The words I heard would effect my life more then somebody telling me I have to call my parents because I keep getting kicked out of French class for speaking English with a horrid fake French accent, and mimicking the teacher while I'm doing it.
I heard those words. Three words that become so essential to human beings. They were quickly said. Almost painlessly, as if no bomb had just been dropped in Iraq. I pictured in my head the horrifying images of the Terrorist War you can now watch clips on, on the internet.
I stood watching the girl grinning from ear to ear, laugh at the boy, then whirl away in a blur of candy pink and bottle blonde. The guy turning the other way, gave a quick "What's up?" to his buddy and shrugged causally into his classroom.
Stunned I stood there. I can't believe it. How could they? Quick and painless?
Honestly, as I walked to class I was still shocked by what I just witnessed. Might I add that I was late to class. If I had trusted my instincts and my brain I should of just shrugged it off and continued on with my life. I could of have saved myself a lot of grief. I am not that smart.
There is no other way I could get around it, I was angry with these people. I could only describe this stupid incident- that's all I could call it- as pathetic.
How could you? That was the first thing that came into me head. Being in a relationship myself, there has to be a certain code of conduct one must use. Love at our age is hard to come by and when it does its really hard to let go of. You depend on that trusting factor, a type of security blanket that most high school students need just to survive the consent war each of them try to weasel out of and take the easy way till there is no way around it.
So where does that leave me?
Does love become a consent necessity at our age?
Not enough love at home leads to a seeking of comfort in somebody else's arms? At this couples "act" as I like to call it can they honestly say those words I-love-you so carelessly?
In all honestly do they really love each other? Or are they just along for the ride, and think by telling somebody that they love them just sounds cool?
While lost in thought during a lull of class I revisited my own relationship, all those unanswered questions: Do I love him? What is love? How do you love? Should I be in love? Do I have to be in love? How does somebody go about telling there loved one that they do love them? Is anyone else in love? Are my parents still in love?
Do I want to be in love?
I came to a shocking conclusion. Well not so shocking when you think about it. I don't want to be in love at all. Sure I really care about this boy very much, enough to miss him when I can't seem him on weekdays. When ever he gets hurt I shed a few tears. I even share my cookies with him. It's all innocent belonging. I don't think I could love him. That is I don't refuse to or even don't want to. Just that I couldn't.
After contemplating life's biggest mysterious of English class I move through my daily schedule. This is when I see him. He's defiantly no knight in shining amour and gleaming white stallion, more along the lines of a peasant boy dreaming of being a knight at the round table. In heart he already is.
Giving me a quick kiss, he notices the far away look in my eye's. He brushes off his own insecurities, along with knowing my independent and stubborn streak, knowing that when I want him to know, I would tell him what is bugging me.
He's so sweet.
Now that I have noticed his presence again coming out of my own thoughts to the real world, I give him a good once over with a more critical eye asking myself those same simple questions that have been buzzing in my head for the last hour.
I keep coming back to the to this one question: What is it that I'm so attracted to? His eye's, his smile, his attitude towards life?
No, not really. Those are just bonus! What is it that he can do that one body else can do? I smile and node to a wave in the hall as he walks me to class.
Giving him the dismissal term of see yah later I breeze into class and sit in a complicated session of conversation on what colour my friend should dye her hair. To say the least I was very distracted all class. How is it that the couple I saw today create such a disturbance in my mind by their daily actions?
I went home. Home is where the heart is isn't it?
I started to realize that not only did the couple start me thing about love they had me opening a large whole in my own relationship and I was the one doing it. He didn't even know.
Why Am I letting this effect me?
Why is love so appealing?
Am I in love?
That night I held the phone in my hand. It was after supper and I didn't eat very much. I guess it was the stress or I didn't feel good. I'm pretty warm must be coming down with a fever.
Call him or not to call him? That was indeed the question. Okay so I'd call him, what was I going to say? Oh I know.
"Hey baby don't mind me I'm just having a difficult time figuring out if I love you or not!"
Yah, no problem. I'm so sure that, that would go over so well.
I hate this. I hate him. I hate this relationship. I hate life! Why do I feel like dying in a deep, dark whole?
Throwing the phone on the floor I pace my cubical sized room. Door-bed, door-bed, door-bed.
Oh this is horrible!
I slump on the bed, about to cry. I hate him. I care about him so much. I want to just kick him. Why isn't he calling? Doesn't he know I'm crying about him? Over him? Why would he do that I thought he cared about me?
Of course he didn't know that I was crying. I was just sitting there like a sniffling, winy idiot! Look at how pathetic I am.
I should call him and explain how I'm feeling. I can tell him anything, I can talk to him about everything. I should damn well be able to talk to him about this. Why isn't he calling?
Why do I feel like this?
I want to just scream. I wan to run around the room screaming cursing at the world. I hate this. Why isn't he calling?
Then the phoned ringed.
I sat up on the bed. That was him. He called, he still cared about me. The phone was ringing. Wait, the phone was ringing.
Leaping off the bed I streak across the floor, wincing at the rug burn that now covered my arms and some of my belly, I pressed the word talk on my portable phone.
"Kurama! It's Alexis, I just want to say I love so much. I hate myself for ever even thinking that I didn't. I hate this feeling of been wanted and I love it all at the same time." I paused searching for breath and words.
"I wanna be with you, please don't hate me." I whispered the last part. If rejected I might just die. I could not help myself. All those words just rushed out, but as I said them I felt so much better I was lighter then air but I held my breath hoping not the burst.
Silence. Questions raced through my head but all I heard was the silence. Did I scare him? I wanted to dry, he didn't love me, he didn't even like me. He hated me. I wanted to cry. I now knew he had called me to break up with me.
"Umm. I love you too." The voice on the other line was deep and just a little weird out. "But is Mrs. Harper there, We are calling to confirm-"
How stupid am I? I don't even remember what he was calling about. I think I might of hanged up on him. All I remember was that it wasn't Kurama. He didn't call me to break up and I poured my heart out to a complete stranger. All I know is that when I called him, he said it was about damn time, because he didn't want to be the only one in love.
Because it is true. I really do love him.