Throughout the day that Elsa kissed me in the hall, I was slowly informed of what had occurred in those days I was home.
Apparently, Elsa came in the day after Valentines Day, and was acting strange. She kept looking over at my locker, so much so that it was impossible to ignore.
One of her friends apparently questioned her, asking the wrong question at the wrong time. She snapped.
She flew off the handle, pushing her friends away, and running from person to person like a madwoman. She was asking where I was, why wasn't I at school and a whole other bunch of questions. All pertaining to me.
Eventually she broke down and yelled, they said. They said she yelled my name.
Everyone left her alone after that, and she seemed fine, albeit a bit uncomfortable. Maybe nervous.
They said she was more quiet, more reserved, the days I was gone. As though there was something she knew, or was hiding, that they all didn't.
I, of course, knew what my classmates meant when they told me that. Or maybe I knew. There was so much about Elsa that I couldn't figure out. Hell, there was so much about myself that I couldn't figure out.
Humans are complicated beings. And the relationships humans share are just as complicated.
Just look at Elsa and me. I don't know what she thinks of me, and half the time, I'm not sure what I think of her. I think she hates me, but desires me. I know I love her, but sometimes I hate her. A lot of the time I pity her.
But my emotions are everchanging. I don't know what I will feel each time I see her. But I know one thing:
My love for her tops all.