I guess love isnt really real until you know.
I began packing, crying in frustration. Why must love be so....irritating like math.
Maybe an algebraic expression needs an answer, but, it needs the ingredients too. A variable and a number. Together, making the complete answer the math problem, known as life, needs. But then, a negative sign just has to pull up.
I heard the door creak open, Harry obviously.
"I love you." was all he said.
Bloodshot eyes with dried tears. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my missing number who mixed into with the negative.
You can't deni and give up on the problem, so fix it instead.
"I love you too." now that, that was the solution.
"I'm so stupid." he told.
"Yes, yes you are." I laughed inbetween tears.
"No more love-hate?" he asked, hoping for agreement.
"Sure curly, but next time, I'm out of our algebraic expression!" I screamed.
"What?" he asked confused.
Relationships are more like drawings. In order to get that perfect drawing, you need the tools. A pencil and paper.
I viciously drew whatever my hand desired. Careless art.
The tools need to stick together in order to get anything finished. Start of with your imagination. Then go off with whatever you desire. Finish your art, love, with a single signing, your ending of life, and your ready.
Zayn knocked on my window, boombox playing in the rain. My missing tool.
I opened the window, taking back my pencil.
"I love you, please forgive me." he pleaded.
"Sure." I replied, letting him know this is his last chance.
Before we left, I took a glance at my messy art, seeing I carelessly drew a pencil and paper with each having the names: