Philophobia (Anger is Bliss)

chapter 10

"Do you even have a heart, at this point? The guy likes you, it's so obvious."

I open the door to my room. I let my bag fall to the ground and fall face-first into my bed.

I groan. Who does she think she is?

I'm so angry.

I know very well how harsh my sister can be. She can be like my mother, and she can be like me, too. But I really don't understand where this question comes from in the first place.

Not saying it's harsh—even though it was probably meant to be—just saying it's idiotic. I hate idiocy. I hate stupidity. Especially when it comes from a place of dishonesty or ignorance.

How surprising coming from her.

Just as she said them, I didn't know how to react to those words. Of course I have a heart, I just don't like to show it. Or maybe I don't and I should have answered "fuck you" to her or anyone else bothering me.

Not surprising at all, by the way. I was being sarcastic.

Seriously. Is it my responsibility? How other people feel about me? Does a guy liking me really translate into me having to take his feelings into consideration? Why is it any of my business?

Well, I do care about him liking me or not. But generally speaking. It's not my burden to bear and it shouldn't be made mine to bear either.

I am so so very mad. Ugh.

I turn around and almost fall off the bed. Then, I look at my ceiling.

He does have pretty eyes. Pretty nose. Pretty nose??

Pretty everything.

I think I want to cry.

It's so not fair! Either way, it is no excuse for my behavior toward him, I know. But I am not used to people being interested in me or liking me, especially when they're being straightforward about it. What's up with that anyway? I've never seen anyone being so open about that.

Oh, and especially when they're absolutely nerve-wrackingly cosmically beautiful and actually attracted to me, too. It has to be some type of joke, I'm sure of it.

I sit up. He really is beautiful. Even more so since I figured he wasn't the idiot I thought he was. He's actually kind. Considerate. He is one of the sweetest people I know.

Which is actually really sad, if I think about it.

What is wrong with him? Not many people have been like that with me, especially romantically. Only a few people but nothing too serious since it was in middle school—and it ended badly every single time anyway. But that's how things are. Someone likes me, I laugh, I laugh some more and then I go on with my life.

I don't want to give people the wrong idea, and I certainly don't want anyone to come near me or get to know me. Even my closest friends—not very close at all, to be fair—didn't know much about me, no one really actually does and I don't want that to change. What's the point if they end up not liking me enough to stay?

Maybe he likes me. I so want him to like me. It's not important. It doesn't matter if a boy likes me or not, does it? But it would change things for me.

Regardless of that, there's something. I don't know what exactly, I don't know if it's the way we looked at each other like we wanted to grab the other's face and kiss, or if it's the way he touches me so delicately and makes me need to be just as delicate with him, or if it's the way he makes me so angry, or if it's the way he talks to me like he wants me to say something in return, always, like he wants me to keep talking, not only because he wants to hear my voice but also because he is interested in what I could possibly have to say. I have no idea what in all of this could be the reason for this weird attachment we seem to have for each other.