One Sided Love Story

Their Stories

(unfinished)

She loved him.

He hated her.

They had a connection through many conversations, some weird, some meaningful, some long, some short. She cherished every single one of them. He didn't care about any one of them. She aspired to be as careless as he was. He was a tired freshman with family problems. His personality was that of a drunken adult man with a bad attitude. She still loved that about him. She was struggling with easy tasks just because of him. He didn't even care about her... And then they got to high school. Everything changed. She became more confident, he became less social. They had talked a little over the summer and had become friends until they blocked each other as a joke and never unblocked each other. She still loved him, he didn't know. She had told him before that she "had a crush" on him, but he didn't care at that time. Now he had taken a small interest in her. She hadn't noticed or even shown a care to him yet because she didn't want to seem desperate. He wouldn't care if she were desperate or not, all he wanted was to talk to her. She wasn't like other girls he's seen before, mainly because he hung out with and dated basic blonde girls who're obsessive and overwhelming. She didn't want a relationship where her and her partner were always in each other's business. She didn't want to exchange compliments everyday between her and her boyfriend. Her expectations were low. She hadn't dated anyone ever. Now that they were in high school, she had her options open. Surely a pretty girl like her couldn't stay single for long. All the guys in high school were more attractive than the middle school boys. He grew very self conscious. What he didn't know was that she would pick him over any of the upperclassmen guys. She loved the sleepy look he had. She loved that he was funny. She loved that he could be playfully mean and it did not actually hurt her. But the thing she loved most about him? The fact that he wasn't gonna force her to do things with him like other guys would. She could trust him. He could trust her. But they wouldn't communicate it in fear of the other thinking it was obsessive and weird. This is how she thought it would go. She loved him. He hated her. She was going crazy. All she ever did was think about him. He was more quiet and less social. He didn't really talk to her. He was feuling her unhealthy habits. "Your skin is not paper, don't cut it." Her friends told her. She didn't care, she was coping. They can't take that away from her. If she couldn't have him, she didn't want herself. He never realized what she was doing and frankly never cared. Then she started to wonder if he'd even notice if she were gone. She contemplated it, seeing if he'd finally notice her. She then realized that she wouldn't get to see it since she'd be gone, forever. If she were gone, how would she see his face? How would she hear his voice? She stopped to think about herself, noticing that she probably won't ever fit his standards. Maybe if she wore makeup? Would he notice? If she got plastic surgery? Would he think she'd improved? If she changed herself, would it get his attention? While she was asking herself all these questions, he was sitting there. He was just sitting there, on his ass, smoking pot, playing video games with his lousy "friends". Then he started thinking about his life, his self worth, if he mattered to anyone. They both questioned their total existence, always going back to one single thought. "Am I enough to be kept alive?"

School wasn't the same as she had first thought of it. Now it was dull, she had no friends, she never talked, she never even so much as looked in anyone's direction. She forgot all about him that day. The night before, she spent so much time questioning her will to live that she forgot the original reason why she started questioning that in the first place. That's not the only thing she forgot. She forgot to wear a sweatshirt, to cover arms. She didn't get cold often, but she was trying to hide something from everyone. Before she knew it, everyone was staring at her. She was too tired to care. As she trudged to her locker, she felt a finger tap her shoulder. She turned around, there he was. He asked her if she was ok. She thought for a moment, then decided not to answer and just look away. He asked her how she was so confident and social. She, again, looked away. How could she tell him, the boy she loved, that she didn't even have the will power to be the girl she was a day ago. She couldn't. So she walked away. The bell was about to ring anyway, so she had an excuse. Although, she didn't say a word to him. She simply just walked away. Unaware of the pain he was in. He stood there for a second, processing what just happened. Trying to put stuff together piece by piece, but it seemed like all the pieces were from different puzzles. They just don't fit together. What was he supposed to do now? The bell rang.

In class it was loud and everyone was getting along and having fun. Except for him and her. She sat near the window in the back of the classroom while he sat on the opposite side mirroring her. He looked over at her, seeing that she was actually kind of pretty. She had fiery red hair with streaks blonde in it. She wore a blueish shirt that was too big and super baggy jeans. Usually girls in high school would flaunt their bodies, why didn't she? He realized her scarred wrists. The scars look fresh. Why would she do that to herself. She looked around the room, noticing he was staring at her. He quickly looked away, hoping she wouldn't think he's weird for looking at her. She looked at him closely, his eyes and cheeks were flushed pink. Was he high at school? Knowing him, he probably was. His hair was messy and his eyes were tired. He was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. She looked at his hands. They were sort of skinny and had visible veins running through them, probably because of the lack of fat on his hands. She went back to looking at the ground, asking herself why she loved him. Afterall, he was kind of an asshole. He looked at the ground too, asking himself if he liked her or not. He couldn't see why he would like her, she was aggressive and obsessive and annoying, but she was also funny and kind to others and good at understanding feelings. After school he didn't go straight to playing video games or getting high or even doing homework. He was looking back at their old texts, then at her instagram, then her snapchat. Stalking her, watching her online profile, seeing if her snap score went up. Was she single? Did she still like him? She hadn't shown any interest in him today. Did he do something wrong? Did he say something that made her uncomfortable? She really wasn't on her phone. She was doing her homework. She stumbled upon an Algebra problem she didn't understand. She tried to call multiple friends but none of them answered. She had one last person she could call, but it would be awkward. She didn't care, she needed help. The phone rang. He picked up almost immediately.

"Hey, can you help me with this algebra problem? I really don't understand it."

"Uh, yeah, sure." He said trying not to make her uncomfortable like he did at school. She told him the problem. He worked it out with paper, a pencil, and a calculator. Before he told her the answer he asked her...

"Hey, there's this person I like but I don't know how to tell them without making them uncomfortable around me. Do you think you could tell me how to approach them without seeming creepy?"

"Well first, don't use the word approach when talking about asking them a question. It sounds like you want to kidnap them" They both chuckled. After that call he sat in silence, thinking about what she would say if he were to ask her. She also did the same, unaware of what might happen tomorrow.

As they sit in class, he looks at her, then the wall, then her, then back at the wall, and so on. He was getting really nervous thinking about how he is going to make the first move. She, on the other hand, was clueless but happy they started talking again. She really was ok with being just friends. She felt happy and relieved that she was finally not making her life all about him. A few weeks go by and he still hasn't worked up the courage to ask her. She has gone back to her old social ways and now has more friends than before. She had been clean of self harm for 4 weeks and was proud of herself for it. She finally was doing OK. He, on the other hand, was being torn apart slowly. He hated going to school because he knew that he would get beaten into oblivion. He was bullied, he had lost motivation to complete simple tasks, and he didn't even want to live anymore. His mom had got him a therapist after his parents divorced, but a few weeks ago he started missing more and more sessions. He was falling apart and didn't know why. Was it because of the bullying? Was it because of the lack of food he was eating? Was it because of her...? It had hit him like a train, painful and surprising. He had actually loved her. How could he not have noticed before? It was so painfully obvious.

                                                                         TITLE CREDS: DEANNA BAE <33