"There is something special about communicating without a single word."
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The bell rang for next period and I waited for my best friend where we usually cross each other. We walked down the stairs and I was telling her how happy I was for turning in an important (and difficult) assignment right on time. It was a small accomplishment, but I was proud nonetheless. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I knew what I was about to experience: I had to wave at him in the Health Science classroom like I do on a daily basis now and have a random hard attack when he notices me, it was odd but I don't care. I kept talking to my best friend until we got to the classroom's large window.
It all happened so fast, but I remember every detail.
As I look into the back of the room—where he usually stands while we pass— I don't see him, only to focus my eyes to a figure closer to the window that I immediately recognize.
It's him.
Too close, too close. I couldn't hear anything, this was different. He was already looking out the window, as if looking, or waiting for someone. I wave and see him look from the crowd to me and nod with a smile.
He acknowledged me. He said hi to me. He returned the favor.
I felt my heart almost jump out of my chest as his eyes met mine, only that I don't remember looking at his eyes. I remember that sweet smile shot at me. Just a big curve forming his lips.
So nice. So sweet. So gentle. Genuine.
There is something special about communicating without a single word. Just a wave, a look, and a smile.
That was when I realized this could work. My mind keeps saying the same thing.
"Wouldn't being friends be so fun? So satisfying?"
My heart keeps telling me otherwise.
"I wanted that look to last forever. I wanted to pin-point every one of his features and read him like a book. His hair. His eyes. His smile..."
That smile.
It made me feel good. It made me feel like I had a chance in life. A chance to come out of my shell. Be bold. Be brave. Be confident. But no, I don't like him. He's very very pretty... but I don't like him. Why is it that the first time he looked at me I felt different? I felt every pump of my blood through my heart, it was racing. Was I excited? Was I scared? It was so fast it felt familiar. Like when you walk past your crush. Crush... such a weak word. I don't like that word, it makes me sound soft and weak. Why does he make me feel soft and weak? He can't be. No no no he cannot be. I don't want to see him ever again.
Just one more look.
They envy me because of what I've done, of what he'd done. Why am I suddenly afraid that I'm going to be stolen from? Taken away, something so soft, so gentle that it'll fill my heart with the blue of rivers and my mind with the green of poison, madness, jealousy. It will make me weaker. I want this to stop. He's not supposed to be. He can't be.
