Wanderer's Melancholy

When Spring Comes

I always found it a foreign concept; love I mean. It's strange; like a seed, its starts off small and unnoticeable, but give it a few days; a few weeks; a few months, eventually it blossoms, swaying in the September breeze. And when you finally catch yourself, it's already too late to turn back. So I sit here with my flower, enjoying the sweet scent and the bright hues which lighten up my world. How bothersome; all of it is.

With the ringing of the siren, Term 3 draws to a close and signals the beginning of the holidays and I, like everyone else, just want to go home. We all rush out the door in a hurried flurry of thank yous and goodbyes. I wish I could leave immediately, but I still had to make my rounds: the painful scurry across the school (fighting against crowds of people in the process) to get to my locker, then going to the library. By the time it's all said and done, the hallways are left empty, and the faint chatter in the distance slowly fades to silence.

And within these stagnant hallways, I wait. Even though I belong here, I still feel out of place; alone and worried.

"Hey, Jing. Were you waiting long?" A deep yet comforting voice asks.

"Hi, Felix. No, not at all." I smile.

"I swear I've been seeing you every day now." He brings his hand to sweep the hair out of his eyes.

"Is that odd?"

"No, why?"

"Just asking," I say nonchalant, releasing my breath I didn't realise I was holding.

The streets we walked down had the same design of two-story houses with lush, green front lawns; the trees swaying their branches in the breeze and reflecting a vibrant leaf green in the sunlight. Some of the houses showed off some bright, purple flowers, while others showed a soft yellow or fire orange flower, and they look lovely, especially at this time of year. I personally like the vivid pink bottlebrushes, although their scent leaves much to be desired. I can't complain, however, where I live you don't see many gardens.

"I'm exhausted," I stretch my arms towards the sky, "So, have any plans for the holidays?" No response.

I look up at his face seeing him hold the same expressionless face he has every day, blankly staring out into the open as if something had caught his attention. He similarly presents himself at school, although unintentionally. Felix looked like the cool, stoic type that only existed in Wattpad fanfics and his aloof and unimpressed look always made him seem distant. Although looks can be deceiving.

"Hello?" Felix flinches, bringing himself back to reality.

"Oh, sorry. I was looking at the clouds - they look nice don't they?"

Is this really how he's popular amongst the female population at our school? I swear if they saw this side of him they would be so confused.

"Uh, yeah? I guess?" I chuckle at what he said.

"I see you don't share the same sentiment," Felix also laughs with me, "Oh, weren't you saying something?" He turns his head, locking eyes with me. I quickly shift my eyes to the side in a panic, and I could feel my heart picking up speed.

"Y-Yeah, are you doing anything on the holidays?"

"Probably not. I don't think I'll be going out either."

"I know what you mean. It gets a little exhausting, being outside."

"You go out for 10 minutes and you just want to go home."

"Like it was a nice idea at first but I regret going," I say with a sigh, trying to calm myself down. We continue along down the street in silence. I always looked forward to our walk home; I loved being able to talk to him, but even in silence, I found comfort being around him.

"What are you doing on the holidays?" Felix asks, reflecting the question to me after 3 minutes. Aren't those some A+ social skills?

"I'll probably be gaming."

"Wait. You game?" Felix says, sounding surprised.

"Yeah? Do I not seem like the type?"

"No," He bluntly responds. I don't blame him though. From the way I present myself, no one could've guessed. I keep my jacket around my waist and sport long black socks with light pink shoes. It's a look for myself, not practical but it's definitely me. From my presentation myself to my personality, I am the stereotypical textbook definition of a gay guy (as much as I loathe stereotypes)

"I was wondering..." Felix's voice grows a little quieter, "I need some advice."

Well, this was definitely new, "What about?" I say a little curious.

"There's this girl, and, well..." He slow draws out his words, a little confused and a little hesitant, "She's shy and I want to talk to her."

"Oh, I see," I stop a look down at the concrete, feeling a slight pang in my chest "In general it's difficult, so you'll have to lead the conversation."

"Ah okay. See you,"

I try to say bye but nothing leaves my throat. I continue walking, alone in silence.

The moment I got home I rushed to my room, not bothering to greet my mom. I dropped my bags onto the floor and threw myself in my chair, making a loud creak in protest. I propped my face onto my fists, clenching so hard that my nails that were digging into my palms were beginning to hurt. I knew this would happen; I was being realistic with myself. So why? Why does it hurt so much? I could feel my heart straining like it was being pulled apart. I want to cry out in pain; in agony. To scream and shout. The tears that prick at the corner of my eyes wouldn't come; I had no tears left to cry, not that I had any in the first place. I had told myself many times to not get attached, it would only result in disaster, and I didn't listen to myself. I felt disappointed and angry. I'm so frustrated at myself.

I look out the window, the sky beginning to gradually fade to an orange hue. The flowers that Dad kept so hard to keep were beginning to wilt. Their bright hues and sweet smells, I regret it all. They're too painful to bear. I shiver at the unwelcome draft that comes in, picking at my skin. Like a winter wind, the September breeze was cold tonight.