**Some say the world will end in fire
Some say Ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire
I think I know enough of hit
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great and will suffice
-Robert Frost**
I remember the first time I met him.
It was after that little stunt in class.
The comet became a snowball.
Not much gets past Storm.
And though Bobby had eyes for me, I had eyes for him.
It's strange how things happen.
I can't say I thought I'd end up with the Ice Man.
That's not to mean I don't love him. I do.
He's Dawson to my Joey.
He's Joe to my Marilyn.
He's Ricky to my Lucy.
Oh, well, do you see where I'm going with this?
Bobby makes me happy.
But he can't make me whole.
Not yet.
And John. Well, John is John.
Or, was John as it were.
I imagine he fancies going by the name of Pyro these days.
His head has been filled with the filth Magneto spews.
The whole Us against Them spiel.
Not that I blame him.
If the guy hadn't tried to kill me, I might have bought into that bullshit.
But he did. Try to kill me.
And then laughed at my hair.
I can still feel him.
John. Pyro. Whoever he's become.
Inside my head.
And it burns.
His presence is like a white, hot light in my mind's eye.
It flames brighter when he's passionate about something.
And I often get the feeling, when that happens, that he's thinking about me.
I've often sat, reveling in his memories,
Seeing what I've seen before, but through his eyes.
I can't quite wrap my head around how he saw me.
How he felt about me.
Jesus, I'm only seventeen.
I mean, how am I supposed to deal with the fact that.
John loved me.
Utterly. Completely. Purely.
I was his moon, his sun and his stars.
And yes. I do realize how completely insane all of this seems.
I mean, Cool Guy John head over heels for little ol' me.
I wouldn't believe it myself if he wasn't inside of my head.
I can feel how much it hurt him to see me with Bobby.
I know it was the reason he left.
Yeah, yeah.
He did buy into Magneto's tales of magnificent war.
I won't begrudge that because it's true.
But, that wasn't enough to make him leave the school.
John's a bad boy. But he was never really that bad.
He has this way about him.
An easy laugh,
A quick smile.
I loved it.
I love him.
He's Sid to my Nancy.
He's Tony to my Maria.
He's Romeo to my Juliet.
Notice anything about my analogies?
They all end in tragedy.
I know, as surely as
I love Bobby,
I'm in love with him
And they're both in love with me,
That no good could possibly come of our being together.
I mean, take a look at the obvious.
My skin is poison.
I put the first boy I kissed into a coma.
I'll do the same to anyone else who dares get close to me.
I am not meant to be in love.
I am not meant to feel anything.
The only question that remains is why,
When I fall into a fitful sleep at night,
Why do I dream of sordid midnight trysts
With a boy whose skin burns against mine?
I touched Bobby, too.
Why has John held such sway over me?
Why am I so full of easily answered questions?
He'll come back one day.
And maybe, when he does, I'll be ready.
Some say Ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire
I think I know enough of hit
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great and will suffice
-Robert Frost**
I remember the first time I met him.
It was after that little stunt in class.
The comet became a snowball.
Not much gets past Storm.
And though Bobby had eyes for me, I had eyes for him.
It's strange how things happen.
I can't say I thought I'd end up with the Ice Man.
That's not to mean I don't love him. I do.
He's Dawson to my Joey.
He's Joe to my Marilyn.
He's Ricky to my Lucy.
Oh, well, do you see where I'm going with this?
Bobby makes me happy.
But he can't make me whole.
Not yet.
And John. Well, John is John.
Or, was John as it were.
I imagine he fancies going by the name of Pyro these days.
His head has been filled with the filth Magneto spews.
The whole Us against Them spiel.
Not that I blame him.
If the guy hadn't tried to kill me, I might have bought into that bullshit.
But he did. Try to kill me.
And then laughed at my hair.
I can still feel him.
John. Pyro. Whoever he's become.
Inside my head.
And it burns.
His presence is like a white, hot light in my mind's eye.
It flames brighter when he's passionate about something.
And I often get the feeling, when that happens, that he's thinking about me.
I've often sat, reveling in his memories,
Seeing what I've seen before, but through his eyes.
I can't quite wrap my head around how he saw me.
How he felt about me.
Jesus, I'm only seventeen.
I mean, how am I supposed to deal with the fact that.
John loved me.
Utterly. Completely. Purely.
I was his moon, his sun and his stars.
And yes. I do realize how completely insane all of this seems.
I mean, Cool Guy John head over heels for little ol' me.
I wouldn't believe it myself if he wasn't inside of my head.
I can feel how much it hurt him to see me with Bobby.
I know it was the reason he left.
Yeah, yeah.
He did buy into Magneto's tales of magnificent war.
I won't begrudge that because it's true.
But, that wasn't enough to make him leave the school.
John's a bad boy. But he was never really that bad.
He has this way about him.
An easy laugh,
A quick smile.
I loved it.
I love him.
He's Sid to my Nancy.
He's Tony to my Maria.
He's Romeo to my Juliet.
Notice anything about my analogies?
They all end in tragedy.
I know, as surely as
I love Bobby,
I'm in love with him
And they're both in love with me,
That no good could possibly come of our being together.
I mean, take a look at the obvious.
My skin is poison.
I put the first boy I kissed into a coma.
I'll do the same to anyone else who dares get close to me.
I am not meant to be in love.
I am not meant to feel anything.
The only question that remains is why,
When I fall into a fitful sleep at night,
Why do I dream of sordid midnight trysts
With a boy whose skin burns against mine?
I touched Bobby, too.
Why has John held such sway over me?
Why am I so full of easily answered questions?
He'll come back one day.
And maybe, when he does, I'll be ready.