Text #152.
May 29, 11:09 pm.
I was here laying in bed and just thinking. I don't think that death is the moment where your heart stops beating. Where you lost all your touch with the real world and start to live in a state of eternal slumber. I think that sometimes, it can visit us more usually than we could ever expect. By memories. By people. By heartaches. Sometimes, death is not so gentle.
Text #153.
May 30: 8:17 pm.
For the first time in a long time, you actually talked to me. I was walking through the hallways when I caught gaze of you. It took every ounce of strength I had left inside me to not smile at you and glance your way. I just walked past you, but you walked after me and tapped my shoulder. I turned back and my eyes widened as soon as I saw you. I was definitely not expecting you to do that. For the first few seconds, I could sense that you wanted to tell me something. You stared at your feet before biting your lower lip and then turning your gaze to meet mine. It was awkward for the few moments. Until you finally broke the silence.
"So, S. What's up?" You asked, scratching the back of your neck.
"The sky is up," I failed as an attempt to make the tension between us decrease. You forced a laugh and so did I.
"I was just wondering..." You muttered, placing your arm on your shoulder. "You know the freaky-eyed kid?" You asked.
I frowned. I didn't know who you were talking about.
"Who are you talking about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow up.
"That Carter kid or something like that..." You mumbled.
"You mean Cameron?" I questioned, chewing my inner cheek.
"Yeah, him. I saw you walking around with him..." You said, staring down at your feet.
"Yeah, and his eyes are totally awesome." I smiled at the thought of Cameron.
"Yeah, it looks more like he has a disease," You scoffed.
My eyes met yours. I wasn't recognizing you. Of course I wouldn't. You changed, duh.
"No, his eyes are pretty much the most awesome ones I've ever seen." I said, raising an eyebrow up.
"Yeah, well, S. I just wanted to tell you that he... Well, he isn't fit for you..." You slurred, scratching the back of your neck.
"What do you mean?" I questioned.
"You shouldn't be hanging our with him. I heard he was even sent to rehab because--" You were about to finish speaking when I cut you off.
"Look, I think the bell just rang and you should go with your girlfriend. Isn't she the one who keeps obsessing over every single second you spent away from her?" I questioned, placing a hand on my hip.
It hurt like hell to speak that way to you. But you deserved it. You were acting like a douche.
"S, I'm serious. He's not good news." You added.
"And you don't think I am? You were the one who left me for her," I blurted out more than I intended to. Your eyes widened a little and you stared at me for some seconds. I could see the pity in your eyes. I didn't need that damn pity. I didn't want it.
"I need to go," I said, grabbing my backpack and hurrying to French class. It took every fiber of my being not to look back at you.
Text #154.
May 30, 9:00 am.
You know what? I want to hate you so badly. I want to despise you and scream everything to your face. You have changed in every single aspect of your life. You're not the same boy I learned to adore when we were starting our high school experience. You're not. And I need to get over it, no matter how hard it is. You made me blame it all on you, and on love. Because we're nothing more and nothing less than pawns of love. It controls us on every single thing we do, it makes us vulnerable. It makes it capable of someone, anyone coming in and playing with your entire being. Just because of one stupid person. You build up a defense that looks strong to you. A defense that you think won't be broken down so easily, but then one person comes your way. A stupid person who ruins you. You feel different while you're around that person, until some months later, they earn your trust. They have power over you, because they know everything about you. Your weaknesses, your fears and your darkest secrets. I guess that love takes hostages. It crawls under your skin without you even realize it until it gets to your heart, where the real damage begins. I guess I learned to hate love because I also hate pain.