The Art Of Love

As the curator gestured for us to move on to the next exhibit. My heart suddenly began to increase its beating, I feel my thoughts flow in my mind like a rapid river, my lips going dry as my breathing became harsh while we slowly — but surely did approach it.

The painting that was made out of love, emotions and feelings that drowned in nothing. That nothing being the rejection, doubts, and pain.

"And over here is one of our top exhibits for many years now. We do not actually know who it belongs to and who had created this beautiful masterpiece, but from the way how it was created we can all exactly tell that a lot of pure feelings and undefined emotions are expressed within it. It is portrayed that this was painted with whole love, yet along with undeniable pain. It shows that there's a lot more to it than for it to being just an ordinary painting." The curator is right. As she finished talking, everyone else took time to admire and examine the painting.

"That sure is one extraordinary painting that I've ever seen." He whispered.

"I know," She says, breathless as she took in the creation in front of her. "And it's like the one who have painted it had a very complicated story between love and pain." She whispered back to him.

Seeing them close with each other, and just by the way that they look at one another can make my heart stop beating. The heavy feeling on my chest brought back memories that I can't seem to forget.

They were right after all.

I had a great journey of having the feeling to feel and have love and to be the one being loved, but the truth is, that it was different for me and it was way more different for him. I have already tried to love a different person, but it can never happen, it will never happen if I only love one person. So, even though I have walked down the painful lane of a broken heart until now, I still never have stopped loving him. . .

"Diana! Get your ass off the bed and we're late for school!" Hearing Hanson's loud voice shout through the door can wake the whole neighborhood up and I'm not kidding.

No, I definitely am not.

Groaning as I put my head under the pillow I was laying on as he started to bang his fist repeatedly on the door. It was making me go crazy at my annoying ass of a brother.

"I'm up! I'm up! Just stop with that banging noise already!"

"Wow can't believe you just said that since I don't actually bang in the morning!" Hanson says and I don't even want to think what he means by that.

Even though I actually do.

"Go do your morning shenanigans now or else we will be way more late than the usual!" Hearing his footsteps walk away before standing up and going straight to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut as I stared at myself in the mirror.

Did I just woke up late? Didn't I set my alarm last night?

Shaking the questions for myself off as I applied some toothpaste on my tooth brush and proceeded to brush my teeth. Today, is yet again, another new year and of course the first day of school. I said that with a lot of sarcasm. Nothing is always new to me every fucking year that passes by. It is already my last year in high school so I have three semesters left for this year and I'm finally going off to college. I can't wait to live a life where I get to have my own dorm, socialize with new and interesting people, and have my brother out of my life for at least five years.

I said five years cause I'm planning to major in civil engineering.

After brushing my teeth I washed my face for a minute before rinsing the soap off. My morning shenanigans, according to my brother, is important to me cause why wouldn't it be right? Everyone's morning routine is important. No one would want to look like a walking dead when you go to school, not unless you studied hard for an exam and got no sleep. Walking out of the bathroom and straight into my walk-in closet. I stood in front of a pile of clothes.