• He will never see me as I see him…

    His hair, his laugh, his poise, his intelligence.
    His kindness, his aptitude, his walk, his eyes.
    Oh God, those eyes.
    The way he can see right through me with a single glimpse.
    He makes my heart pound. I feel as if it will come flying out of my chest!
    I understand that this is taboo. Not only the difference in age and societal ranks,
    But we are both men. My being a freshman, I’m out of the running to begin with.
    Our school doesn’t work that way.
    “Stay within your grade,” we are told in the beginning.
    That is not all.
    I know he has had girlfriends. I know what he has done.
    He is not innocent, no, not in terms of virginity,
    But to me, he is an angel. He is perfect.
    I remember him from seventh grade.
    He was an aspiring tenth grader, volunteering to show students the works.
    I was struck.

    He will never see me as I see him.

    His bounce, his smile, his character, his heart.
    His soul, his jokes, his charisma, his hands.
    It is amazing what those small hands can do.
    They deliver a sense of security, hope, and a warm presence.
    They heal, they calm, they make my mind go numb.
    It seems impossible that those soft, little hands of his can be so strong.
    We’ve talked once or twice and occasionally, that hand will come to rest on my shoulder.
    I’ve never been so at peace.
    He is the most thoughtful person I have ever come across.
    Putting himself last, making sure that everyone is happy, he is my savior.
    Every day, I will see him with his friends and my surging jealousy reappears.
    I want him all to myself.
    Ha, look at me.
    What would a guy like that want with a freak like me?
    Casual sex, flings with chicks I don’t know in the slightest,
    Yeah, great boyfriend material.
    Other than my numerous affairs, no one truly knows what I am like.
    But, for some reason, I feel like he sees who I am.
    I know it disgusts him.
    I know I am repulsing.
    But I need him.

    He will never love me like I love him.

    It’s 4 o’clock.
    School was let out an hour ago.
    I can’t see him.
    My parents found my journal.
    They read my fantasies of being with this man.
    “Grotesque!” they scream!
    “We will not have a f** in our family!”
    Ha, I’m the bad one here.
    Thanks dad.
    Thanks mom.
    It’s nice to know I have your support and love no matter what.
    What do they know anyway?
    They hate each other.
    They have absolutely no right to preach what love is right or wrong.
    Dad has a girlfriend.
    Mom is a slut.
    These people will never understand.
    Hell, does it really matter?
    I mean, honestly,

    He will never love me like I love him.

    But I need to see him.
    I know where he lives.
    That is one advantage to being student council president.
    His parents, why are driving so fast—
    WHAT?!
    Did that just happen?
    It couldn’t be!
    There is no way they did not see that pole!
    What is going on?!
    The front door is slightly ajar with the inside quiet.
    ‘Oh God, please tell me he wasn’t in that car!’
    “Gabriel!” I call to him, desperate for a response.
    Silence.

    It doesn’t matter what happens now.

    They’re crazed. I must be insane as well.
    I heard his voice calling to me,
    I know something is wrong with my mind.
    Ha, if my brain is so messed up, it won’t matter what happens to it.
    Oh that gun.
    The metallic smell had grown since it had been locked in my dad’s safe.
    I remember this smell from my sixth grade year.
    That therapist was out of her mind.
    What am I saying?
    I probably will just chicken out again.
    “Gabriel!” Haha, seems like my mind is hitting new lows.
    I can’t be with him.
    He is so attractive.
    He is the sweetest man I have ever met.
    I was doomed from the start.
    “Please forgive me, Lord.”
    The metallic taste, oh what a memory.

    It doesn’t matter what happens now,

    So long as I find – no.
    That couldn’t be.
    “GABRIEL.
    “Gabriel, where are you?”
    Room after room,
    ‘Why does this damn hall seem to stretch on forever?!’
    I have to find him.
    I cannot let that heart of his stop beating.
    I must do all in my power to help those little hands keep healing.
    ‘Blood?’
    That all-too-common scent wafting through my nasal cavities,
    Into my mouth (that disgusting metallic flavor),
    Cluttering my brain, messing with my mind.
    No.
    No.
    No.
    No!
    That last door.
    Time seemed to stand still as I strode towards it,
    Anticipation in the negative,
    Graveness, silence, utter stillness.
    That lone door stood between me and the person I cared for more than my own life.
    The door appeared to open on its own without my assurance.
    The scene, clean.
    His body, frail.
    His eyes…
    They seemed so empty.

    “I chickened out.”