"I think I have a crush on someone but I know that it is not going to go anywhere except stay in the pit of my stomach, ruining my days. Oh and thanks for yesterday's pep talk." She sighed and flipped the page of the textbook. She had taken account of what I said yesterday and completely threw out those that used her.
"No problem," I gave her a genuine smile. "Now, shall I give you another one of my brilliant super deep talks?" I chuckled.
"Go right ahead."
"First thing first, how much do you like them? And how do you know them?"
"He goes to our school. He's funny but a sarcastic fool. I get excited and nervous when I see him—to the point of checking my reflection and carefully choosing my words. The thing is that he sometimes shows signs yet that's impossible because no one can like me."
"How can someone not like you? You're funny, smart, incredibly sweet, and caring. You're like everyone's dream girl."
"I'm a pessimistic, sensitive, easily annoyed person who hates people but is a person themself."
"We can work on that." I poked her cheek to get a tiny smile out of her. "But still, even your flaws come together and create a puzzle full of jagged corners that are pretty abstract and cool. You're like a painting that has a hundred meanings. One thing can't define you."
"That's sweet but no one can actually make sense of those paintings, you know. You stand there for minutes, pretending to be cool and all knowledgeable when it looks like a bunch of scribbles on a wall."
"A bunch of rad scribbles."
"Rad scribbles?"
"Rad scribbles."
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
