CHEMISTRY [MICHAEL JACKSON]

00.

As a senior, I was just about done with school. I was ready to get out, leave the ignorant people behind, and move on with my life.

I wasn't exactly a social butterfly. I kept to myself often and I always stayed low key. I didn't have many friends, but I was content with that.

I preferred to be that way.

I never really said a word in any of my classes. Not that I was afraid to speak up, but it was just because I was extremely reserved.

That was just who I was.

Moreover, chemistry was one of the most boring classes I had ever taken in my life.

Not even geometry was close to being as boring as chemistry.

My teacher, Ms. Irving, was very nice.

Too nice sometimes, I'd say.

She didn't really know how to connect with us or make learning interesting. Sometimes the experiments we would conduct in class were fun, but the overall course wasn't nearly intriguing. Ms. Irving spoke in a monotone voice usually and she would take forever to teach just one portion of a section in our books.

The only reason why I even looked forward to my chemistry class was seeing a fellow classmate of mine.

His name was Michael.

Michael Jackson.

He was perfect, absolutely perfect.

If I said he was handsome, then it'd be an understatement.

He was beautiful, and that's just it. I could stare at him for hours. He could do the simplest things, and I'd start to internally hyperventilate. Even if he cracked the smallest smile, it would make my day so much brighter.

His voice was the softest thing, almost like it was too fragile to handle. His hair was kept in the neatest Afro.

Although the Afro had gone out of style almost over a decade ago, Michael pulled it off beautifully.

Michael was an unexplainably smart person. He'd always give these long explanations in class when Ms. Irving would ask us different questions. His opinions about foreign chemists and different chemical concepts that he shared were very interesting as well. I always admired his intelligence from a distance.

It had been that way since our freshman year.

Like me, Michael was a senior. We'd been in classes together over the course of our high school career, but we had never actually held a real conversation.

Sometimes I would ask Michael for a piece of paper or to borrow a pencil, but that was it. I doubt he even knew my name was Leah.

Michael probably knew me as the antisocial female that always puts herself into seclusion.

That's all I really was anyway.

Socially, I was horrible. I didn't like being around tons of people, let alone the tons of crazy stupid people that filled my high school.

I dreaded going to school, but seeing Michael everyday in class made it worth getting out of bed in the morning.

Michael was literally my only motivation.

The sad reality that I had to try my hardest to accept was the fact that I could never be with Michael. I was too quiet for anyone to like.

All I really cared about was curling up with a pint of cookie dough ice cream, watching Scooby Doo every night, and ice skating every weekend with my best friend.

That's all I really lived for.

If those two things weren't apart of my life, I wouldn't want to be alive.

Nobody would ever be interested in having a relationship with me long term, as my father would remind me almost everyday.

According to him, I would never marry or find love. My father figured that I would grow up to be alone and live in isolation.

That's how I went about life, silent and alone.

I was too pathetic of a person for anyone to even interact me, especially the oh so jolly Michael Jackson.

A girl can dream though, can't she?

-Leah Simone, 1985

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Michael Jackson is my heart, my soul, my love. 😍😘

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-T. Alicia 💖