(A/N: Mentions of suicide.
Watch out, if you feel as to do so)I can't help but think of her.
She's been in my mind all day, every day.
She seems so... mature. Independent. Caring.
And I'm just a hotheaded idiot.
How could Eli ever love me?
One day, I kept letting those thoughts eat at me.
Maybe I could drown myself when taking a bath.
No, my body would just reflexively choke out fire instead of air, making all the water evaporate.
But then I realized.
I haven't even confessed! There's still a 50/50 chance Eli likes me.
We had to be taught a bit more today, some more simple-ish math functions.
The teachers we have base an algorithm on what they use more often in real life as opposed to just ended up being used twice. Today, our longest subject was writing. I thought it was pretty enjoyable, since our small, 8-member class could free write after we finished what we needed to do.
So I made a poem.
It was hard to capture my mind's vision of Eli in words. So I wrote a bit of a depressing story based on my negative thoughts of suicide.
All I remember of it is that it took the family's perspective after the daughter's death, and how it was hard to go through daily life without being reminded of the dead daughter. As soon as I finished, I sat and thought.
I don't have a family.
Someone still cared, right?
Maybe Eli?
There was still hope.
I couldn't give up yet.
No, not just yet. I have so much more ahead, even if Eli hates me.
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