The Boy I Could Never Love

Graduation 

The week of finals, I couldn't eat without throwing up, and getting out of bed for more than a trip to the bathroom saw me passing out. Forget about sitting for any tests or finishing papers, my life revolved around tissues and jello cups. Not even water would stay with me as it irritated my throat to swallow. I kept needing to wipe the sludge from my mouth just so I could breathe from the resulting thrush I developed. Disgusting, I know.

I had mono, and it remains, to this day, the single worse illness I ever held the misfortune to experience. That includes appendicitis. I'll take pain over extreme fatigue and not being able to eat any day of the week. My personal venture with Covid stands out as the only thing that comes close, but even that pales by comparison. I lost ten pounds in a week and made multiple trips to the hospital. They wanted to fail me at school and prevent me from marching if I could not find a way to do the work.

Mom took me to see the principal since he wouldn't believe I was truly that sick, even with the doctor's note. I sat in his office, in an uncomfortable molded chair, wiping kleenex on my slimy tongue so I didn't choke, barely able to concentrate on their conversion. He watched as I passed out in front of him before preceding to wipe away the fresh build-up and passing out again. The man didn't get me a trash can like I asked, so my tissues piled up in a neat little corner of his desk. He acted disgusted and told my mother I could have my extension like he was doing me a favor, and that I would be allowed to march with my class if I felt up to it, I just needed to get my paper for English turned in. Between my mother and I, we managed to get the paper completed before the ceremony.

Weeks end saw me well enough to march. Still fatigued but recovering, I did the pomp and circumstance and went to project grad. After looking forward to this night for four years, I refused to miss it. Shockingly, my friend was there, and other than senior prom and the one soccer practice, it exists the only occasion I saw him outside of school. Coming up to me, he asked me to go outside with him. What he said floored me.

Scene...

{My friend leans against the exterior of the building as I stand in front of him, questioning how much longer I can stay awake.}

My friend: You know I always liked you, right?

Me: Yeah. [my response automatic]

My friend: How come we never dated?

...End scene

Now, here I am, recovering from the worse sickness I can imagine and this day goes on record as the longest I've managed to stay awake thus far. After a week where I could not keep anything down, and that included my medication, I barely knew what we were doing or where we were. There stood no way for my mind to focus on that question. Those ten seconds of conversation remain the only clear memory of that night. Understanding this would likely be the last time I would see him, I attempted an answer anyway.

I thought he meant like, like we got along. We were always friends, so, yeah, I knew he liked me. When he talked about dating, I felt like that little girl he told he loved in middle school. Confused and hurt, I brought up junior prom, saying that was his chance and he blew it. I am sure I said a good many things, as I tend to do, but my fatigued brain checked out after that. When we went back inside, I knew my response was shit. I felt upset at his question and my inability to offer a better reply.

His words left me with my own questions about what happened. If he liked me, why did he refuse me? Were my advances not obvious? Did he do it to get back at me? He told me he loved me, not liked me, what changed? I decided there exists the issue as his younger self got caught up in the feeling. It was never love he felt for me, or he still would. I held every right to refuse him if that stood the case. I got so caught up on the word that I started bashing on him to my girlfriend, not caring if he heard or not. Much of what I said was cruel and not a word of it true. I just didn't care anymore. My depleted thought process couldn't bring itself to give a shit about anybody else's sensitivities. I was done and wanted people to know it.

Of all the things I did, I think this stands out as my biggest regret. I knew how I felt, even if I remained incapable of feeling at that moment. Blaming him for asking when I felt so sick got me through my recollections of this event. I thought I should have taken the opportunity to give it one last try before leaving forever. Yes, he hurt me, but I hurt him. I knew I would regret it if I got caught up in my bitterness and never tried. Instead, my condition that nightsaw I behaved like a bitch.

The asshole boyfriend from prom broke up with me a week later, citing that where I contracted mono and he didn't, I must be kissing somebody else. He really was a jerk. It took a month to get my health back, and I found myself missing only one person from my graduating class. Even though everything felt unfair, I still cared about my friend.

If anyone else did what he did, I would write it off as mind games and be done with the whole thing. You have seen the pattern of manipulative and controlling people in my life, and I can confidently say he did not exist as one of them. His stubborn nature just got in his way. He was like dealing with a kid in that respect. A kind, sweet, eager kid, and I loved him for it.

Did you see this coming?
If you want more people to see this voting helps to do that.