life is a bitch or how death tore us apart and pulled us together

Jealousy

I came home smiling.

I had talked to her. A completely normal conversation.

Without a fight, without screaming and insulting and crying.

Humming tunelessly I did my homework and practiced math and chemistry.

Since I wasn't allowed to do much sport anymore I turned my interest into studying. That led to me sitting in my room for many hours every day, practicing and studying every school term you could think of.

I went to bed early and although my sleep was light, I woke up refreshed and full of power.

This morning I had a normal breakfast with bacon and eggs and my beloved orange juice.

The school day dragged on long and boring.

I did not speak to Hayley that day  and nothing, really nothing,  interesting happened till the end of the last period.

Don't ask me why but I decided to take the bus into the city with my boys.

We sat at one of this four-seat-corners and had fun gossiping about fifth graders in the front seats.

I scanned the seat rows and found my eyes caught up at one special silluete.

I would recognize her everywhere,  every time.

What I saw made my heart race, but not in a nice way.

She talked with a boy.

He looked like one of this typical boys who were either American football players or swimmers.

Something deep down in me remembered that she had been a swimmer too.

The boy said something and she laughed.

It was one of this easy, soft laughs she showed so unusually. Her laugh was clear and light, like water rushing down the mountains in a little flow.

" You're kidding! ", she said and her voice sounded soft and happy.

"No, honestly. ", the boy answered and it sent shivers down my spine.

I did not want her to talk with this boy! I did not want her to talk to any boy at all.

Stupid idiot. How dare he talk to my girl!
My girl. I laughed about myself.

I had no right calling her mine at all.

She was free. Because I left her.

And there,  in the bus, I realized that I was indeed jealous of that boy and that I still loved her even though I would never admit it to anyone around.

I watched her get off the bus and saw her face fall, while she plugged in her earphones.

With people around she appeared happy, kind and so friendly. But I knew her better than that. As soon as she was alone, the demons in her head started to speak again and she became a lonly, broken and  vulnerable little girl.

She was such a good actress!

Sighing I watched her walk away.

I wanted to help her, , but I had no right to do so anymore.