She and Jealousy Don't Mix
What was up with Anya? I thought during Science 3. I watched her in the seat directly in front of mine. She was poised, charming, elegant, exquisite, and valid. She was indeed faultless. But did I love Amy or did I love her? How could I have not thought of this when I said those evocative words to Amy? The words I love you.
But what did it matter to Anya? She never loved me. She swore to me that she didn't and would never love me. Why should I sit around waiting for something guaranteed to not happen?
But how do I love Anya. But it was Amy that I loved, no it was Anya, no it was Amy, Anya, Amy, Anya, Amy, Anya, Amy. Then I apprehended why do I have such a thing for girls whose names start with the letter "a"?
But no matter. I was in conflict with myself, like Jamie from The Face on the Milk Carton.
But what was wrong with Anya? Why had she acted as if all of a sudden she hated Amy? It was me she hated. Except in Korea. In Korea, it was her who came up with the plan of making Amy fall in love with me and let her guard down, and it was her who I had been thinking about that whole time as we carried out the plan in her unreal, unspoken presence. And it was her who had been my beloved girlfriend at the time. And then it was also her who battered me for trapping the Cahill's in a cave, since thathowever, was not in the plan.
But I loved her anyway.
Although it had seemed strange for her to have to hold back on Amy.
Was Anya…? I couldn't even think the word…
Jealous?
No. Because she and jealousy don't mix.