Love.
What is it anyway?
I shifted in my seat as Mr. Thompson continued his lecture on biology. I wasn't bothering on listening though because it was a review on everything we had learned so far which I already knew because unlike everyone else, I paid attention the first time.
Suddenly the bell rang, releasing us from the hell that was biology. I rose from my seat, lifting my bag to my shoulder and began down the aisle, dreading where I was headed to next: Geometry. Ahead of me, Ashley Miller who was sporting her favorite, overly tight jeans, accidentally dropped her pencil. Sighing, she bent over, exposing her backside to my eyes.
Love has never really been explained before.
Is it a feeling, an action?
Quickly, my eyes snapped away, wandering to pretty much everywhere in the room but there as I waited for her to get her pencil. She grabbed it and straightened back up before exiting the classroom, heading to her own next class.
I hurried out behind her, but instead of going left in the direction of the math pod, I went right towards the bathrooms that were in the science pod which were the only ones that were open during any of the lunches.
And there are different kinds of love, too.
There's the love for your parents. The love for your friends. The love for your children. And the love for your partner, whoever it may be.
Rushing into one of the stalls, I quickly closed and locked the door before I crumpled onto the toilet seat, allowing the tears to fall freely now. I hated myself for the feelings I had. Why did I have to feel this way? Why couldn't I just be normal like everyone else?
And what about lust? What is that? And what is the difference between lust and love?
After I finally ran dry of tears, I took in a deep breath before exiting the stall, my face immediately coming into view in one of the mirrors above one of the sinks. My eyes were puffy, red. It was obvious I'd been crying. My hair looked a mess, too, though. And my nose had turned pink and was sore from blowing my nose so much. But that wasn't really what I saw. No matter when I looked in the mirror, whether it be when it was the middle of the night and I was half asleep or if I was all dolled up for some special occasion, I always saw the same thing.
It was always just the girl who I hated more than anyone or anything else in the world.
