Unrequited love is something I've always felt I have quite a bit of experience with. But usually from the losing perspective. As it happened to be with my latest semi-romantic encounter, I was at a severe loss.

It was rather upsetting.

And even more so upsetting, when I wandered into my backyard on Saturday afternoon, I discovered that my beautiful tripwire had been cut.

Talk about rude. Who disables someone's booby-trap? Seriously.

So, in an eerily subdued state of pure rage, I went into my garage to find my father's paintball gun.

If you asked me why he had a paintball gun at the ginger age of forty-nine, all I would be able to tell you is that he was hanging on desperately to his youth. For one reason or another. Although personally I'd think it would be more effective to wear over-sized jerseys and a backwards baseball cap and say things like "yo, my home-dawg, fo' shizzle." But again, that's just me.

As I dug through boxes in search of ammunition, I felt even more unhappiness and unsatisfied feelings creep under my skin. That morning I had walked to the post office to mail an obscenely late Christmas present to my crazy Aunt Maisy for my mother. When I entered the small, warm building, I froze in place upon seeing Percy standing in the corner, sifting through a handful of mail.

He didn't turn, so I forced myself to walk around the corner and into the main office. Standing at the counter, I could see the lobby out of the corner of my eye, and as he left, he turned and for a split second, our eyes met.

And in that spilt second, I saw his eyes flash from bored, to sad and desperate. I saw his face fall and his body slouch. I felt my stomach drop with need and longing for his companionship. I missed him so much that it physically hurt.

But because of that spilt second, I knew he missed me too.

Seeing him hurting gave me a strange sort of feeling that perhaps, with time, everything would be alright again.

So there I was, stuck halfway between agony and optimism. I mean, that's the thing about love, right?

With hurt comes hope.

I finished loading the paintball gun and trudged my way back through the snow and onto my back porch. I squatted down behind the railing, aimed the gun at the center of the alleyway and waited impatiently for someone to come along.

I had been out there for almost an hour, had shot about five snowmobilers with orange and yellow paintballs, and couldn't feel my fingers by the time Alex showed up unannounced with a mug of coffee in his hand.

He surveyed my Apocalypse Now style operation before handing down the coffee and sighing, "This is new low, even for you."

I accepted it gratefully and glared up at him, "You think I'm not aware?"

"Well there's nothing like stating the obvious to get your day going right."

"I eat Wheaties." I handed him back the mug and reached for another set of hot pink paintballs.

Alex laughed, "No face paint?"

"I thought that might be a bit much." I sighed as I loaded, "Besides, I'm not going for subtly. I want them to know who's at the other end of this gun."

"Here comes one." Alex pointed.

I cocked the gun, "I got him." And shot, hitting his left leg. He howled and toppled off of his snowmobile, which shot out from under him and continued on down the alley. The rider got up carefully and shot a rude hand gesture in my direction.

"Walk it off, Speed Racer!" I shouted as he limped after his machine.

"You know, one of these times, they're bound to come over here."

"They won't get far." I mumbled, menacingly cocking the gun.

Alex shook his head and settled himself on a chair near the door, "This vendetta against snowmobiles is getting a little out of hand."

I shrugged and set the gun aside, settling myself back against the post of the railing, "I have no problem with the machines in themselves."

"Just the poor souls riding them." .

"Pfft, poor souls my ass." I scoffed, "They should know better."

Alex sipped his coffee, "Come on, Soph, in the great scheme of things is that really such a big deal?"

"Well, no." I admitted, "The hokey pokey is what it's really all about."

"Well if you're gonna get all technical about it."

I sat up at the sound of another snowmobile, "Technically, that yellow snowmobile would look a lot better with hot pink polka dots."

"Most definitely." Alex sipped again, casually, at his coffee and watched me take aim and peg another defenseless snowmobiler in the leg.

After we watched him cry out in shock and slight agony and gimp his way after his runaway ride, I ran my thumb over the barrel of the gun and looked shyly up at Alex.

"Uh, Alexy?" I asked quietly.

He looked down at me and swirled the cup around thoughtfully, "Uh, Sophia."

"I want to ask you something . . . " I mumbled and looked down at the mess of paintballs lying in the snow around my knees, "It's weird, but I figured that out of everyone you would have the most experience with this particular situation."

He nodded understandingly, "What's up? Buying a hat?" He chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes up at him, "No. You're dumb. I'm trying to be serious."

"You never initiate serious conversation."

"It's gonna blow your mind."

Alex smiled, "I enjoy a good mind blowing from time to time."

"Good, " I sighed, "Buckle your mental seatbelt." I turned around to shoot at a passing snowmobiler, "Luke told me he loves me."

Alex nearly shot hot coffee out of his nose, "What?"

"Luke loves me." I repeated unenthusiastically.

"Like . . . for real?"

"Or so he claims. Although I'm pretty sure his classification of reality differs from that of the general public."

Alex looked a little baffled, which was a little insulting, but finally he let it sink in and shook his head, "So why do you think I have the most experience with this particular situation?"

"Well, " I began, rolling a pink paintball between my fingers, "I need to somehow tell him that I don't love him without crushing him. I figured you've been in his place a few times and could . . . I don't know, give me some of the lines girls have used on you."

Alex stared at me, open mouthed.

"You're stunned to silence . . . I know, who'd have thunk I would ever have the power to break a big ol' hunka, hunka burnin' love's heart, right?"

"It's not that, " Alex growled, "I'm just trying to decide how to hit you without getting shot."

I smiled at him, "Tricky, but we all have our goals."

Alex glared at me, "So is this real or did you just need an excuse to insult me?"

"I never need an excuse to insult you." I answered sweetly.

"I sort of hate you."

I flung myself onto the snow and grabbed at his sneaker, "Just help me, Mitchy!"

"Okay, okay, " He sighed and set the mug of coffee down beside him, "Alright, just . . . tell him. It's not something you can easily bypass without at least a minimal amount of crushage."

I sat back dejectedly, "Fuck."

"Only as a last resort."

"What?"

"To soften the blow." Alex said matter of factly.

I held up my gun threateningly, "I'll blow you."

"Gah, Sophia."

I lowered the gun, "I didn't even say that."

"Not even." Alex shook his head and picked up his coffee again, offering it to me.

I took it and stared down into the dark liquid, "I hate my life."

Alex tugged his hat down over his eyes, "Thats the most depressing thing in the world."

"No, " I sighed and sipped the hot coffee, "The most depressing thing in the world is when you reach the bottom of a juice box."

Alex peered out at me under the brim of his hat, and his eyes shot sideways as we heard the distinct revving of a snowmobile engine.

I started to get up but Alex stopped me.

"Can I shoot this one?"

I stared at him a moment before shrugging and handing over the gun, "Wow, be my guest." I watched him crouch down by the railing, "I never thought you would actively participate in one of my schemes."

Alex smiled as he fiddled with the gun, "Just doing my part for the deconstruction of America." His smile faded as he grew confused, "How do you"

The gun went off, but luckily Alex had pointed it toward the alley, and it hit it's target in the shoulder. He yelped and flew off his snowmobile.

I nodded approvingly, "You've joined the Dark Side."

Alex stared after his paintball, "That was fucking awesome. Did you see him fly?"

"Now shoot his helmet while he's lying there."

Alex aimed and shot just as the fallen boy pulled his helmet off his head. The bright pink paint hit him in the forehead, spattering all over his blonde hair. He let out a scream and Alex chucked the paintball gun to the side, "Shit!"

I leapt up, "Fuck!"

"Into the house!"

"Lock the door!"