Smile.
An everlasting smile.
Like the one Something Beginning with A gave me that morning, where he actually looked pleased to see me. When I feel like giving up, it's that memory that reminds me why I've held on so long.
Now, hope.
It's something you don't realize you've got until the tiny piece that was there is ripped from your grasp. And then the crushing blow when the pillar of lined faith is pulled out from underneath the roof, and suddenly gravity has it in for you. Many people suffer what is known as "heartbreak", in fact it's quite common. I'd experienced a good deal of it before I'd met Something Beginning with A, so I'd had this method of avoiding "liking" any guys for a while. Kind of like a wall.
When I met Something Beginning with A, it was like that wall didn't even exist. I didn't know him too well, but he was better than any guy at school; outside of school, too. I didn't know what it was about him at first, but as time went on, and I got to know him better, the list started to grow progressively. His smile and laugh, his eyes, his crazy hair, the slight accent I'd never been able to put my finger on, his love for music, his intelligent sense of humour, his many talents, the fact that he is so unique. The one thing that really keeps me holding on is that I feel like I can tell him anything and be so honest with him. And I do try.
I consider myself an open book. Others probably call it freakishly honest or thoughtless, but there is a reason for it all. Saying the right thing at the right moment is crucial. So crucial, that most of us start to fear that we'll say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've read somewhere that the one thing we should fear more than that is letting the moment pass without saying anything. Who wants to live a life of silence? One that we reach the end of and think 'I could've, but it's too late now?'
So if someone cared enough to ask a question and actually listen to the answer, I'd openly explain why I like Something Beginning with A, or why I won't ask him out. Why I haven't just given up yet.
I really did feel like giving up today - I hated his guts. Periods two, three, four and five I had every reason on the face of the earth to smack him over; now, I can't think of one. I thought I'd still be holding that grudge the next day. But I know from previous times that I'll get off the bus, go to A Block to meet my friends and see Something Beginning with A standing with his mates; like always, I'll grin and suppress an urge to jump up and down and an eruption of nervous and excited giggles while trying to look casual about it. I'm not fooling anyone, I know.
Something Beginning with A, I know you'll read this and God knows what you'll think. Maybe you'll laugh and show your friends. Next time you see me, maybe you'll say 'hey, nice writing you did' like when you read my last piece. Maybe you'll pull me aside in P.E. or Maths and ask to talk about things that aren't our next basketball game or how to cross multiply a fraction.
Maybe you won't say anything.
I don't see the point in secrets, but you can keep yours.
