"I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. I don't know anything anymore." my best friend, Liliana cried to me.
"Do you really like him?" I asked, concern laced in my voice.
"I don't like him, Alex. I don't like him at all. I hate him. I hate his fucking guts." she declared.
"What do you mean you hate him?"
"I mean, I hate how he's always leaving me on read. I hate how I always put so much effort into everything I say and it feels like he doesn't even care. I hate how he always makes me blush and makes me go absolutely crazy because I can't even give a simple tint to his cheeks. I hate how he makes me speechless and how he catches me staring at him all the fucking time. I hate how everything he says and does seems so effortless. I hate that he's a bad boy. I hate his past. I hate where he works. I hate that my parents would never approve of him. I hate that my friends don't like him. I hate how he listens to rap music. I hate how he's smarter than me. I hate that he has beautiful eyes. I hate that he teases me all the time. I hate everything about him. But what pisses me off the most is that I don't actually hate him at all. Sure, there are times when I just want to slap him across the face and hear that satisfying sound of a hollow palm hitting against bare skin. But there also times where I wish I could just walk into his job and instead of him acting like we're just friends, he'll come up, cup my cheeks, and kiss me hard and passionately so I have confirmation he feels the same way. But he never will. How do I know? Because he isn't like that. He doesn't show his emotions like I want him to. He doesn't express happiness in the way that I do. He won't just come up and kiss me like I need him to. He won't even bring me outside, pin me against the alleyway wall and kiss me. I want him to do these things. And that's what I hate. I hate that he won't. I hate that he'll never read this. I hate that he's making me fall for him, and I don't know if he's even debating on whether or not to jump after me. And that's what kills me. That's what's leaving my mind a dizzy and confused mess. " she explained, frustration and sadness taking turns taking over.
"Tell him how you feel."
"I can't." She mumbled.
"But I know you can."
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Very short shorty. Hoped you enjoyed
YOU ARE READING
The Compilation
Historia CortaA compilation of short stories because I didn't feel like publishing by themselves because it was starting to bother me.
