burnt out [ongoing]

vera mayweather, may 15

a boy told me he liked me today.

 

he had pulled me aside when i was walking to class and leaned down close, so close in fact that i felt our faint breaths intertwine. his eyes, a curious color of gray and blue and green, a kaleidoscope of raging boy emotions, bore into mine when he smiled, a glistening thing that sent tingles down my spine. 

i smiled gently back and his smile suddenly widened. his voice, startling against the quiet, then said, "so, vera, i wanna ask you something."

my pulse raced and i knew he could feel it; he had to as it was that loud. i responded, "what?"

he tilted his head to the side for a moment, chuckling under his breath like he couldn't believe i had actually talked to him. he inhaled quickly as if he was suddenly running out of air.

then he faced me again and i got a better look of his features underneath the light: sharp and sculpted cheekbones as if made by michelangelo's steady hand; a dark hurricane of windswept hair; one hell of a strong jaw; and poutful, somewhat mesmerizing lips.

he said, "i like you."

i blanched, which was possibly one of the worst reactions a girl could do to a boy who was trying to bear his soul. i recovered quickly but i knew he saw. i gulped.

there was silence for a while before he broke it, "vera?"

here was this boy, such a lovely boy, who wanted me. who liked me. the logic in it all made my head spin since there was no logic.

i was me.   

he was a charming, intelligent, gorgeous, unbelievably well-liked guy, a shining star in the universe that people wished upon, that people gazed at dreamily because of its beauty.

and i was an unrecognizable, invisible, worthless, useless girl, mere space dust floating dully on endlessly in our world.

easily forgotten. 

it was too good to be true that he liked me.

and, if he geninuely did like me, he deserved better than myself. i was not special in anyway, beautiful, stunning, loved. none of it.

and no one can tell me that that wasn't a fact. i have brutal memories of dark bruises and head pains and broken bones for the exact reason of being less than a human being, worthless trash.

no, i couldn't force him to like me, pity me like he was. he needed a gorgeous girl, one that could match his outright radiance and his heartwarming personality.

so, i rejected him straight out, told him i didn't like him back and that he should just leave me alone. i walked away then feeling colder than i had ever felt but it had to have been done. 

i couldn't have him lose his warmth because of my cold heart, because of my valueless soul. 

it was the best option i could do. he needed someone better than myself, someone he could actually love without dealing with my problems: my depression and my broken, family life. he needed someone who could return his love, not someone who just might take it for granted.

and, anyway, there was not a chance i could have ever loved him back.

you need a living, beating, breathing heart for that.

and soon

i won't have one to speak of.

god, he deserves better than me.