UNREQUITED LOVE...


This is what we are...

We're all just human beings fluttering away...

Or rather, walking away...

Even better; running...

Running away...

Away...

Away from insanitation...

Away from heartbreak...

Away from problems...

Laughs silently

We're all just dusts and winds.

NOTHINGbut dust and wind...

I look at the ceiling and blink slowly.

Those words echoed in my mind:

Dust and wind...

Dust; as in me sticking into things—or rather, someone—and get in the way at everything around it—or rather, around him.

Wind; the air that softly pushes the dust away from the things, clearing it away so that it would feel better without it...

Or rather, me being pushed away from him, not only by his own wind but by his own words, and causing me to back off and leave him alone.

Offended and hurt inside yet pissed off and red-mad outside.

These idiotic thoughts.

I grip on my bed sheet and sigh heavily, my chest pushing up and down.

My brown hair is messy and wet because I had just taken a hot bath after I had came home to reminisce those feelings I felt.

I was still wet, haven't dried myself completely, but I am on my pajamas already.

I can feel the disgusting hot wetness that the bed sheet I lay upon on.

When I feel like it, I would sleep at Tyson's place sometimes.

Chuckles

It's weird, huh?

Well, I've really gotten to know them all and they even let me sleep over Tyson's grandpa's dojo.

I guess Tyson agreed, too since he was out voted and thought it was weird having a girl sleep in a boy's house for days.

But, in my secret surprise, he took it normally sometimes.

That guy.

I sigh...

I want to get out again but it's already night time.

Maybe I should go apologize to him.

Tell him that I'm sorry for being such a pushover to him all the time.

But, still, he shouldn't've said those harsh things to me when all I want was to help them win.

Help HIMwin.

But he just doesn't.

He couldn't, don't want to.

He hates me being in his way.

Come to think of it, he might've been hating me ever since.

Laughs

Why wouldn't he?

He's never seem to do anything kind to me.

I've tried acting nice to him but I know he doesn't notice.

He never notices me.

And I know that he doesn't feel the same way I feel about him.

Wetness brush my cheeks, not by the still wet skin I have from the bath.

But my tears.

Tears of sudden emotions.

I shut my eyes and screamed as loud as I can.

Somewhere outside my room, my mother yells.

"What's wrong, Hilary-san!"

I don't answer.

Instead, I scream again.

This time, through my white pillow I had pressed against my face.

I'm frustrated, confused, and miserable at the same time.

And, oh my gods, I think my minds' in insanitation.

It's swirling in circles and my thoughts are being pushed aside so that I have more time to think some more.

Even shutting my eyes as tight as I could can't help me.

Nothing will...

Tears struck my eyes, stinging my cheeks and even my eyes.

I have never cried for a long time, never in public.

I'm not even sensitive!

Crying alone helps me conceal myself from others.

Crying alone helps me think things over.

And I wouldn't want to be seen crying in public, especially if it's Tyson that sees me.

I just want to be normal, like all people are.

That's why I act perfect in school.

That's why sometimes you have to be mean to others when it happens.

That's why you shouldn't be yourself too much because, to me, it makes things worse.

If you want to know the real me, I'll tell you.

I'm not perfect.

I'm not mean to everyone except those I should be hating.

I'm not trying to be myself sometimes.

Well, every time.

I never try to be myself.

It brings too much out of me.

I'm just a normal girl.

If you want my definition of 'normal girl', it's being nice and does what she does best.

But that's from the past.

And this is now.

I should be mean.

I should be trying to be perfect in school.

And I should probably not care about my fight with Tyson.

What a stupid thing to do...

But it hurt me too much.

It stung my heart out and caused my hopes to die out...

again.

Why can't Tyson be more positive in me?

Am I too bossy?

Maybe I am.

AAAAAARGH!

I'm thinking too much!

I HATEthinking too much.

It makes me go crazy because I know that once a problem comes inside me, it's going to stick in me until it's solve.

And THISproblem will never go away.

Only being left there, in my heart, unsolved...

And this will go on and on and on and on and on...

I sigh.

And on...

I'm going crazy, lunatic, whoozy.

And I don't even know why!

I feel so angry to myself that all I did was cry it all out.

since I feel a bit crazed, I'm still motionless.

I'm still staring at the ceiling above me, my eyes wide open as if I'm in a trance.

And the only thing moving is the tears that flowed endlessly out of my stinging eyes.

But I'm strong.

I'm hoping.

Always hoping.

I'm heartbroken, the first time ever.

Well, probably not.

But that's another story.

Tyson, you dumbass, I think.

I think I should give up on him.

I will, if a want to.

I will, if I could.

But I would've done that a long time ago if I had the chance.

And now, I'm stuck thinking about him.

My head suddenly throbs, and all I could do was blink it away.

I have been staring at the ceiling for almost an hour now and I can tell that it was way past ten o'clock.

I've been lying here, doing nothing, staring at the boring old ceiling while I could've been outside taking a walk.

I sigh again.

Maybe that walk would do me good.

I need to think again.

But I don't feel like it anyways.

"It'll make me think more, anyways..."

I let my left arm fall into the side of the bed along with my left leg.

I can't sleep.

I can't even move.

I can't stand this...

Like I said again, I want to scream and cry all this anger out.

These feelings are getting way into me that I know tomorrow I won't be the Hilary that they know.

Or maybe the next day...

and the next...

I'll be different, maybe.

I know I will.

And it will affect me, my life.

I chuckle, not knowing whether it's from insanity or stupidity or no reason.

Dust and wind...

Yes.

I'm just a piece of lone dust carried by the wind.

An isolated piece of tiny filth...

Held by the only delicate breeze that keeps me from existing...


And I am no longer the Hilary everyone knows...