Christmas.
What good is it for?
Yes, there's the birth-of-Jesus-Christ thing that most Christians would say, but is that really it? Any bloke with half the mind can sense that it's just a lie; nobody actually believes that anymore. People only care about the Christmas specials, the advertisements, the feasts, the gifts. Nothing is religious at all, and though some would disagree, they'd only do so because they're too ashamed to admit it.
I don't care about that 'love' and 'family' crap; I can't see my family and I'd rather just save my money and time than go to a stupid Christmas party anyway. That 'love' shit is what got me into the fucking mess I'm in right now as well. Call me cynical or a Grinch if you will, but I'm just not having it.
"Hey Jack," I hear beside me, interrupting my thoughts.
There's my problem.
"Yep?" I reply nonchalantly.
I'm in love with him but he's too bloody blind to see that I'm so obviously gay for him. We're best friends, only best friends, and have been since we met two years ago as first years in this dump of a community college in Downepour, England. Yes, that's the name of the godforsaken place. It's sensible, given that it's always bloody pouring here.
"Okay look, I've got to confess, I'm in love with that girl we saw last week," he says excitedly, figurative hearts appearing in his eyes.
I nod my head, pretending to be interested in what he's talking about. My problem went from zero to a hundred real fuckin' fast. Now he's in love. With someone that's not me because the world loves to crap on me. What I hate the most is that it's completely and utterly normal; as a twenty year old college student it's not unusual to like a girl and be happy about it.
Wonder what the hell happened to me.
"Who, Jenny?"
He nods excitedly.
I can't blame it on her, but I can't help it. Love blinds reason and is powerful as hell; can you blame me?
Despite the sudden wrath I feel, my heart suddenly starts aching; like it's about to fall apart and stop pumping blood at any moment. I'm trying so hard to not just yell out profanities and curse the poor girl. Maybe murder her for what I'm feeling at the moment but I haven't made up my mind.
I smile instead,
"Good for you," I say.
A stream forms and I wipe it off, making it look like a yawn.
That bastard Cupid's using my heart as a shooting target.
"Yeah! Some say that I might have a chance with her, which is why I'll ask her out tomorrow! What do you think?" He asks as I suppress a grimace and put up an even brighter smile.
"Of course dude, you're smart, handsome, and charming," I say with a wink. "She'd be a crazy bitch if she didn't want a date with you."
I meant every single word, but I really hope that she'd rather not date him.
"Thanks man," he says and gives me side hug. "I think I'll even bring mistletoe in spirit of Christmas," a grin spreads across his pale but soft lips that I so want to touch with my own.
I roll my eyes, "You're so goddamn cheesy."
"Hehe, I know...but still..."
He wanders off in thought, biting his lips subconsciously, a sign of worry.
"But what if she doesn't like me?" He asks with furrowed eyebrows.
It's my turn to sigh as I reach with a tender hand to remove the crease in his eyebrows. Why the hell can't perfect-the-way-they-are people see that they're perfect the way they are?
