Writing Prompt

I’ve turned off my emotions. It’s easier this way. The pain I endure everyday can no longer hurt me. When you have no emotions, nothing can hurt you. Not the abuse you endure, or the loneliness you feel every night before bed.

My mom was the only person who ever complimented me; she always told me that I am talented in everything I do. Writing, singing, dancing, fixing things, cleaning, and being a good friend to my friends. The only thing she doesn’t know how good I am at is pretending that I have emotions. Pretending to be normal.

I’m only 14 years old and yet I’ve become so conditioned to not allow my emotions to surface. Not to my dad, or my sister. I can force a smile, a laugh, and even pretend like I don’t have flashbacks from the abuse I endure every time I come home. I haven’t even begun living and yet I am emotionally dead. Meaning, I cannot express my emotions at all. I can’t even express when I’m cold, when I’m hot, when I’m feeling alone, or even when I feel happy.

Going to school and seeing my friends functioning normally makes me pretty jealous. I’ve just started high school which is supposed to be a huge part of a young adults life, a pivitol moment in life. One that decides our future.

I watched the kids in my Spanish class chatting amongst themselves, each one smiling and laughing. It was a combo class; different kids from different grades. I sat at the back of the class, I seen a tall guy looking at me.

I pressed me lips together and looked away; but throughout the class my eyes kept looking over to the guy. He had blue eyes and brown hair. He was attractive even I could see that, he was muscular but not in a lifts weights kind of way. More like he was lean and fit, but could lift 150 pounds easily.

He would meet eyes with me and I would look away. Dang it was he cute.

At the end of class he came over to me as I got my stuff together, “hey.” He said, his voice was like silk. Masculine, tough and yet something about it was comforting. A crooked smile remained on his face, ‘holy crap.’ I thought as I felt myself blush. I cleared my throat and replied to him, “Hey.” I stood up, he was taller than me; but not too tall that I couldn’t kiss him on my tipy-toes. ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN THINKING! HE’S PROBABLY WANTING TO ASK YOU TO STOP STARING AT HIM DURING CLASS!’ I yelled at myself in my head.

I began to walk away and he followed, “my name is Duane. It’s nice to meet you.” My heart began to flutter, ‘such an attractive name. ‘ I looked over to him who looked at me, ‘wow. I could get lost in his eyes.’ “My name is Layla. It’s nice to meet you too.” I smiled, I couldn’t help it. It’s like his presence made me feel relaxed, more relaxed than I’ve ever been my entire life. “I have my next class upstairs but I’d like to talk to you more.” He said.

‘HOLY CRAP, HOLY FREAKING CRAP!’ I smiled, then nodded. He gave me his phone, “give me your number and I’ll text you.” I nodded again, taking his phone.

He waved to me saying goodbye. I felt like I was swooning over this guy. My friend Nichole came over to me, who had apparently witnessed the entire thing. “WHO was THAT?!” She asked, wrapping her arm around mine. “His name is Duane, he’s in my Spanish class.. he asked me for my number.”
She pushed against me, “WELL, DUH HE DID! HE’S TOTALLY HOT DUDE!”
I giggled, “Shhh! He could hear you!” “What grade is he in?” Nichole asked, I grinned. “He’s a Junior.”

After two more days of school passed, Duane came over to me after Spanish class. “Hey, Layla! Sorry I didn’t text yet, my parents grounded me.” I looked at him with a confused but happy smile, “what’d you do?” He chuckled, “I didn’t do the chores I was told to do.” I chuckled, “been there, done that.” We walked together down the hall to the stairwell, “here.” He gave me a piece of paper. “See you in two days.”

I took the paper, “you too.” I turned, and there Nichole was. My goodness does she follow me around. “What does it say?!” She said loudly as she came over to me excitedly. I gave her a look of ‘shut up!’ She laughed, “I don’t know! I just got it!” I said, I walked quickly with her as we went to our next class. I opened the note:

“Want to meet up at the park next Saturday at 4:00? Yes or no? Drop this off at locker 352.” Read the note.

“Dude it’s like that song, check yes or no!” Nichole said, as she read the note over my shoulder. I nudged her and got geeky. “Shh!” I bit my lip and folded the note up.

“Are you going to go?” Nichole asked, I looked her her and said “if Ryan Reynolds asked you to meet up somewhere you would go, wouldn’t you?!” We laughed. I felt eyes on me and see Duane looking down from the top floor of the school. My eyes got wide and I felt my face grow hot. I grabbed Nichole and began walking faster. Duane’s face had a huge smile on it. “Crap! Crap! Crap!” I said as I rushed Nichole and I to Choir. “What!?” She asked, “HE HEARD ME DUDE!” I said in a loud whisper.

I came out of choir and there he was, waiting for me. “Um… hi.” I said shyly. “Ryan Reynolds, huh?” I tried not to look embarrassed but the laugh that came out of him told me it was pointless. I laughed with him, “here.” I said, handing him the note. I felt someone touch my back, I turned and looked at Nichole. Her eyes narrowed, her double chin became pronounced and she raised her eyebrows twice. ‘Dammit Nikki!’ I thought. I pressed my lips together, holding my breath. Until I seen Duane’s face again, his face looked like he was holding in the biggest laugh and was about to lose it. I couldn’t help but laugh. He stared at me purely and joined me in laughing. We walked up the stairs, laughing and talking.

Next week came suddenly. My mom dropped me off at the park, and I walked up to Duane who was sitting on top of a table. I always thought when you meet the one you’d get butterflies but with him, I feel peaceful. Like around him, I can truly be myself.

We spent the next two hours talking as we sat next to each other on the table. His hand slowly made its way towards mine, and I felt pure happiness when his skin got in contact with mine. I looked over to him, “I know this is hard to believe but I really like you, Layla.” He said. His voice vibrated so sweetly. I blushed and nodded, “I… me…” I cleared my throat, “yeah.” He raised his eyebrows, “what’s that mean?” He laughed.

Usually when I can’t talk it’s because I can’t form the words I want, because they are about emotions. I chuckled, “I… L-like you, too.” His eyes became soft, and he leaned towards me.

‘WAIT WHAT?!’ I thought, as his lips got closer to mine. His hand reached to touch my cheek, but was startled away by my mom honking the horn. We both jumped and pulled away from one another and I jumped down. “I’ll… um… I’ll see you at school? Text me, okay?” Duane smiled and got up. Walking me over to my moms car, “see you at school.. I will.”

6 Months past, I felt myself craving Duane. Everyday he would text me first, never giving me the chance to give him a ‘good morning, handsome’ text before his ‘good morning, beautiful.’ I felt myself falling for him, slowly. But now it felt as though I couldn’t contain it anymore. I asked him to meet me after school, before my mom picked me up.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Duane asked as he approached. I turned, feeling my entire body react to his voice and presence. When he is around I feel gity, like a little girl who has just got her first puppy. “Hey! I have soemthing I want to say…”. I searched for the words. ‘How the hell do I tell him? He usually always does everything first. The first hello, the first move, the first to text, the first to take my hand.’ I looked at the ground.

Silence followed, “are you… breaking up with me?” He said, hurt radiated from his words. “NO!” I said, “not at all! I just…” I looked at the ground again. “Did you cheat?” I looked up at him, “n-no… I just can’t tell you… I want to but it’s hard.”
He nodded, he looked hurt. He’s thinking the worse case scenario when all I want to do is confess my love for him. He began to nod and walk away.

“Wait! Just wait!” I said, pulling out my phone.

“I can’t find the right words to say this.. when I’m in front of you it’s nearly impossible; but texting is what I’m use to when it comes to expressing myself. I always write so this feels more natural. I love you. I love you so much that it drives me crazy. So much that I feel like I can’t live a day without you. When I don’t see you during the day I worry about you and miss you like crazy. Duane, I love you.” I sent the text. His phone pinged. He looked at it, and read the message.

He chuckled. Looking up at me, I looked down at the ground. Ready to hear that he didn’t feel the same, that this is was all a game to him. I was ready to get hurt.
Everytime I expressed myself to someone they always shut me down. My pain, happiness, joy, love, excitement. Every time, shut down by the people that surround me.

He walked towards me, I felt his hands grab my face. His lips collided with mine. ‘What?’ I thought, his soft lips embracing mine. I put my arms around him, placing my hand on his neck as the other wrapped itself under his arm to hold his shoulder.

I felt my entire body want to explode, I melted into him. His lips and mine kissing each other lovingly and passionately. He pulled away, looking me in the eyes he smiled. “I love you too.”

He pulled me in for another kiss then a hug.

For the first time in my life I felt truly happy. Like everything I’ve been through fell away into nothingness. I felt safe. I felt wanted. Needed. And loved for the very first time.

I’m now 24 years old, and I get the same feelings I did back then now. For the man that found my heart when I was lost in the dark. For the man who showed me real love. For the man who gave me my freedom.

My first love. My husband. My soul mate.

“I think I might be dying!” I gasp to my friend Bianca as we walk through the hall. “What are you talking about, Bea? Finally accepting you can’t take every single class and club sophomore year?” Bianca says, giving me one of her famous sarcastic looks. But she doesn’t understand. “No! I took an emergency medical class last summer and I have the same symptoms as a heart attack. Sweaty palms, racing heart, and my stomach feels like there are a million butterflies inside that are juggling chainsaws!” I explain. “Chainsaws, Beatrice? Really?” Bianca rolls her eyes, but then spots Peter walking in front of us, “Wait, you like Peter!” “What? That’s ridiculous!” Sure he is in half the same clubs and sports I am and I get dizzy just thinking about us, I mean him! But that doesn’t mean I like him. Right? “Girl, you got it bad. But, I’ve heard that he has it bad for you too! I thought it was just talk, but with Homecoming next week, who knows?” Her black curls bounce as she taps Peter’s friend Jeffery on the shoulder in front of us. WHAT IS SHE DOING!? “Hey, Jeff, are you guys going to Homecoming this year?” Bianca asks, giving me the most maliciously innocent look. “Well, yeah. Everyone here has a date accept Peter boy,” Jeff laughs, punching Peter on the arm. Peter laughs along, but his ears start to redden. “About that, Beatrice?” Peter says, catching my eye, “You wouldn’t happen to have a date yet either?” “Umm, uh, I…” I looked at Bianca, who proceeded to slap her forehead, “I don’t.” “Well, in that case…” Peter started. “But I really like you and I think you are so cool and I didn’t truly know until like 5 minutes ago so now it’s like what do I do next I’m not that good at this kind of stuff so all the word just come pouring out and I am rambling sorry, sorry, sorry!” I say, mentally panicking because I just word vomited all my feelings right in front of the coolest boy I know. “That’s… exactly what I was gonna say,” Peter replies, smiling and taking my hand. For once, my brain was quiet other than a quiet hum of happiness.

_He had known love, but he never dared dream that he would be loved until he met HER. _ She is pure and good. A symbol of virtue. His companion. The inner turmoil, and the voices telling him he isn’t good enough, isn’t worthy, quiet when she is near.

She is simple, delicate but brave and powerful in the moments that count most. She notices him, peers deep into him, and yet she keeps coming back for more. He knows she must be protected at all costs. HE has to protect her.

She is everything he could never be. After all those years he’d spent in the dark, she is his light. She is his peace.

Love is a strange thing. Now, attraction I can understand. It’s biologic, it had an evolutionary need. Devotion, too, I understand. But love? It can be attraction, it can be devotion, it can be both, it can be neither. It is foreign, seemingly incorrect on so many levels.

Why is it that we fall in love? We love to say love is from the heart, but obviously a giant organ beating blood toward the rest of your body isn’t where that intensity originates. The mind, maybe, but that seems too on the nose.

And is love even intense? You see it on the media all the time, that love equates to passion, sacrifice, theatrics. But then that means I’ve never felt love, and neither has a significant portion of the human population.

From what I’ve observed, love is most often quiet. It’s quiet when I cook you dinner every night, because you couldn’t use a spatula if your life depended on it. It’s quiet when you sit in the yard with your earbuds in, memorizing every word to my new favorite song. It’s quiet at night when we warm both sides of the bed with our bodies, not touching yet forever entwined. It is rarely a sharp stab, more of a dull ache, a soft humming in the back of the mind, but it’s there, it’s always there.

So I believe that love does not originate from any part of the body, yours or mine or hers or his. It simply _is. _It sits in the air, never leaving or fading, forever present wherever one goes. It’s just that we don’t notice it until we want to, and when we want to, we say we’re in love.

Shadows in the dark Open up your jet black heart Maybe there's light inside That collided with the moon It swallowed up your soul It's not too late to make it known Show me the other side Pure magnificent light The eclipse has you in its grasp But really it's your own soul that's got you trapped Don't cry beautiful heart Don't fear the shadows in the dark

————————————— I wrote this poem in 2015 it doesn’t really fit the prompt but I thought it was too good not to share

[fast forward]

I applied my mascara with the precision I used in my collage applications. My eyeliner, a wing tip so sharp it could draw blood. A dangerous sort of beauty. I glanced at the clock and a smile broke out and danced on my lips. My morning routine was running five minutes ahead of schedule. Today was going to be perfect. After one last fit check- a casual pastel yellow sundress that I adored- I walked outside to my car.

Driving to school was less hectic today due to my punctuality. I found my usual parking spot open, pulled in and waited. Turning up my music I did some homework I had to get done before first period. And then, There he was. Reed Montgomery. Six one, messy blonde hair, gorgeously tanned, eyes a color the ocean would be jealous of, captain of the swim team, and well, perfect. My boyfriend.

Or, to-be-boyfriend. I’d already laid out all the ground work. In my AP calculus class, I’d been funny and cute for several weeks. I’d let him help me with my homework though, I’d never needed it. And then got his number in a meet cute way asking for it while complimenting his brilliant intellect. Then, later texting him for “homework help” and innocently getting sidetracked having interesting and fun small talk conversation.

I’d name dropped homecoming several times, so I’m sure that is in the process of becoming a reality. Now all that was left was have him ask me out on a date to solidify any doubts. Then, he will be mine. Like A squared plus B squared, I’d made everything fall into place for C squared. Followed every step. I was excited to see the results.

The bell rang and I casually walked to first period, hoping to bump into Reed, but he was nowhere to be seen. But the day was young. I handed in my completed homework and sat down in my first block to endure the next hour and ten minutes of lecture.

My spirits fell slightly as the rest of the day I was not able to randomly run into Reed, but my hopes for after tonight were high. Everything would be perfect.

As I walked with my friends to the parking lot, Reina spoke up after checking her phone.

“Uggggh. I only got an seventy three on Mr Dalingos test. I might actually drop that class. How did you guys do?”

In sync the rest of us- Mayn, Sue, Loren, and I- pulled out our phones to check. Like I’d expected, I got full marks.

“One hundred.”

The girls groaned at my response. And I giggled as they continued to talk about their scores, lamenting over lows and comparing highs, comforting those that didn’t do as well. As we made it to our cars Mayn invited us to go get ice cream to cope with their score induced sadness. They all piled in the cars and Mayn rolled down the drivers side window.

“You coming Lissy??”

I smiled thinking of the plan I had to execute. The anticipation making me nervous.
“Next time. You guys go, I’ll catch ya later.”

She frowned and tilted her head. “You sure?”

I nodded and made the most universal sign for “read” in ASL, the sign I’d adopted when I wanted to mention Reed while still being discreet.

Her eyes widened and she grinned knowingly. “Kay, see you later then! Text me!”

I watched her reverse and drive away with all my friends. Part of me wanted to go with them, but I had a boyfriend to get. I set to work. It had to be perfect.

I went home and did my homework and then picked out a new outfit that is more appropriate, but still cute, to wear to our school’s swim meet. Faded jeans and cream colored corduroy jacket. As I left the front door I placed my extra set of car keys on the counter and drove to the pool with a grin.

I watched in a dreamy daze as Reed led his team to the victory. He is amazing. I wondered if he set any new records tonight. Everyone on the team is fast, but none like Reed.

The team got out of the pool and my face colored a bit and I got on my phone to distract myself. People started emptying the bleachers to go home. It was time. I waited as the team was congratulated and enough people had left, the parking lot was almost empty. I sat on the hood of my car. My keys sitting in my cup holder locked inside.

The minutes ticked by while I waited. Reed was the last to leave the pool and I was ready.

“Lissy?”

My name in his mouth made my heart patter.

“Hey Reed, great meet.”

He rubbed his towel over his hair and smiled.

“Thanks. What are you still doing here?”

I laughed and pretended to look embarrassed, which wasn’t hard. I was flustered talking to him.

“I locked my keys in my car.”

He chuckled and tossed his own car keys in the air and caught them.

“Little miss organized locked her car keys in her car?”

I smiled and shrugged. “Yeah. First time for everything right?”

He nodded thoughtfully “Yeah I guess so,” and then just like I knew he would, “You want a ride home?”

I smirked. Phase one complete. “Can I DJ?”

We drove along to the songs that made me think of him and songs I thought would make him think of me. The perfect playlist to make us fall madly in love. I made small talk waiting for him to ask me out but as we got closer to my house I got worried.

“So, you going to homecoming?” I asked picking at my jeans.

Reed shook his head. “Nah.”

Warning signs went off in my head. “Really? Why not??”

Reed shrugged turning onto my street per my instructions. “Not really my scene. Me and a couple buddies are gonna go for a weekend trip to the mountains.”

I shallowed feeling everything falling out of my control. I searched for a way to salvage my plan. “Fun.” He nodded smiling. “That’s the hope. You? Homecoming I mean?” I chuckled and answered distractedly, “Yeah, maybe with some friends.” He stopped the car in front of my house. “Fun.” I smiled trying not to show how disappointed I felt. “That’s the hope.” I reached for the door handle but hesitated. It was now or never. “Reed, would you like to do something together some time?”

His smile faded a bit. “Oh.” I raised my eyebrows waiting for him to continue. He sighed and ran a hand through his still damp hair distracting me. “Listen Lissy, I just want to be clear, but I don’t want to upset you.” My stomach twisted. “I don’t-I don’t like you like that. I can tell you’ve been maybe into me?” He chuckled, rambling. “Gosh I’m awkward. I could be wrong I just wanted to be honest with you and not lead you on. I’m sorry.” My heart felt crushed. But I also felt mad. After all the work I’d done. The hours I spent working towards trying to get him to like me. “What do you mean?? I thought—I—I’ve done everything right, I did all the things that are right for the start of a relationship. What do you mean you don’t like me like that??” I tried not to get hysterical. I realized then, I wasn’t used to not getting my way. Reed sighed. “That’s kind of just it, Lissy. You’re trying too hard. You’re well, perfect. You did everything right. Too right. You’re not-” He winced, “Real.” He said finishing. I was mad when tears sprung into my eyes. He was wrong. I wasn’t like that. I wasn’t. “How could you say that? I’m not perfect. Even still how could you not like me if I did everything right?? You should like me. That’s how it is supposed to end. Supposed to work.” Reed gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not a math problem, Lissy. Which by the way is clear to me that your very good at. You don’t need to pretend to be dumb for a guy. You’re very smart and someone’s going to love you for it someday.” The tears slid down my face. “Just not you.” Reed retracted his hand like I’d slapped it away with my words. “No. I’m sorry, Lissy.” I sniffed and looked up to keep more tears from falling. Reed gently spoke again. “Do you even really like me? Or is it that I’m the perfect fit for your ideals? I know a lot of the guys you’ve gone for, and looking at myself, at face value we are similar.” I cut a glare at him. “Seriously?” I refused to consider his point. I started to get out of the car done with Reed and this conversation. “Lissy, wait.” I turned back around. “You’re wrong about me.” His face crumpled into something like regret and guilt but worst of all: pity. I slammed the door and walked up the steps of my porch before going inside and slamming the front door too.

He was wrong.

I let more tears run down my face as pieces of my heart fell to the floor for the first boy

I truly knew I loved.

“”You’re not real Lissy. Everything you do is so perfect. Even me. I’m exactly the kind of guy people would expect you to go for. Do you really even like me?””

I don’t like expressing my emotions i’m very bad at it. never did. never really wanted to even try to express them until i saw her…

Suddenly all i could think about was her the way she walked the way she talked the way she looked the way she dressed everything about her was stuck in my mind i couldn’t stop.. Am I falling in love ? with another girl. she has ginger hair canine teeth as she smiles I always look at her , her hair , how beautiful she looks smiling. She smiles so nicely i wish i could see it everyday and night.

she’s good , at everything you can wish for or think of she’s everything that’s i’ve wished for so i began to anonymously write to her i put notes in her locker because i’m too scared to express how i feel. I don’t know what to say , how to show it. So i show it all through notes.. Putting them in her locker everyday expressing how i felt about her how beautiful she looks about her smile & her hair

her outfits she wears maybe one day she’ll find out who i am how i admire her from afar how i love to look at her all the time at school how i enjoy her company secretly my emotions are one thing that i’m not good at.. I wish i was so she knew.. Knew who i was knew how i was.. I wish my emotions didn’t get the best of me.

One day i did it , I expressed my emotions to her at her locker as i was giving her face to face to her. expressing my emotions finally “It was me , writing those letters to you so I thought i’d give one to you in person face to face” She looked at me silently… Like she thought i was joking. Like it was a joke and it wasn’t true that i was writing the letters to her and putting them in her locker , she looked at me up and down..

Looking at my black and white checkered shirt i have on , black and white mini skirt i have on as well as my thigh highs and black boots with my puffy tight curled hair that’s brown. She looked at me her hazel guys meeting my dark brown eyes she takes the note out of my hands and walks away, not saying anything. Not a single word to me. I watch her walk away confused i stayed confused the whole school day as the next day came around i ignored her… I ignored looking at her as i opened my locker and saw a note in it I grab it and open it to read it. “I’ve been watching you for awhile putting notes in my locker and i wanted to write one back but i didn’t know who to write back to.. As i write this to you i want you to know i don’t express my emotions either , And I like how you admire me.”

I couldn’t believe it , that she liked me back , me being good at everything besides expressing my emotions and falling in love. I finally found it.. And she’s exactly like me.

I look at her at her locker.. Two people who aren’t good with expressing emotions fall in love with each other , What are the odds.

Moon sobbed as she explained the local sorceress how Bramble had passed. She needed him back and she knew it would be expensive. It didn’t matter how much it would cost, as long as she could bring him back. He was everything to Moon although she didn’t know how to show him. She offered the lady her journal dedicated to him; the journal that held all of the words she didn’t know how to say. Moony fell quiet after a while, mulling over the loss of her person. If she had told him the truth and told him she wanted him back, this wouldn’t have happened. She blindly led the witch back to Bramble’s tent and knelt beside him, scooping his limp body into a gentle hug. Moon didn’t have to see to feel how much pain he must’ve been in. She could feel his heartache and that broke her even more. “Please- I- need him…” She gave him a little squeeze and kissed his cheek. This was her fault. If she hadn’t lied, this wouldn’t have happened. The sorceress had heard many stories of Moon and how no one could ever challenge her. She was rumored to never have cried a tear in her life and here was that legend, heartbroken over some man. She sighed and gently moved Moony away to focus on Bramble. She spread a sort of salve over the wound in his chest that helped it clot, then gently poured some concoction she had down his throat and set his head back carefully. “He’ll take some time to wake up…”

Some call me a psychopath. Others taunt me with names like “Emo Eza” or “Ross the Robot.” It’s fine, though, really. It doesn’t bother me. At least, not that they can tell. My face has been frozen in the same deadpan expression ever since I was a little kid. Ever since the accident. It happened when I was just shy of six. My babysitter at the time thought it was a great idea for me to go play in the community pool so he could hang out with his girlfriend. I was on swim team, so he thought I would be fine without supervision. I was indeed a fantastic swimmer, but I wouldn’t be able to out-swim what happened next… The sky had already darkened, shades of gray cotton puffs merging into a suffocating blanket overhead. The atmosphere was brewing and burbling like an unhappy stomach, and I suddenly felt unease. Goosebumps dotted their way down my neck and little hairs stood like soldiers on my arms. I could feel the electrical excitement in the air. First, a rumble, and then a brilliant flash of forked light beamed down from the heavens. Lightning struck the pool as I dove underwater, being that I was young and foolish enough to think water would save me from the fire raining down. I woke up in a hospital, but something was very different about me. I felt bigger, taller than I did just yesterday! The last thing I remembered was gasping a quick breath before plunging down to the bottom of the pool. I tried to talk; tried to say something was wrong. I could barely move my mouth. My eyes darted around the room frantically, settling on my mama, bathed in cold white hospital lighting. “Oh Sweetie…” she had said. “You’re alive… oh I missed you so much!” She was reduced to blubbering happy, relieved tears. I felt like I was going to cry too, but something was wrong, again. I couldn’t. I simply wasn’t able to. The doctor said, “She’s lucky to have woken up… it’s been so long.” So long? What did that mean?? My mama saw me staring at the doctor. “Eza, you’ve been in a coma for two years.” She rushed over and hugged me, her face soaked with saltwater. I was so shocked. But my mouth couldn’t form an “O.” It took years of speech therapy to be able to get out a discernible mumble. So, I’m used to the bullies by now. It didn’t bother me much until today. Why today? Well, this is the first time I met them. Kind, gray eyes, the color of a storm cloud… tousled ginger hair; a dreamy sense of style. And confidence. A non-showy, nonchalant type of confidence. I can’t help but admire them. Our eyes lock for just a moment in time, in passing. Something made them approach me, thought I can’t fathom why. “Hey.” It’s a smooth voice, with an undertone of an accent, like what you would hear narrating an audiobook. I want so badly to be able to smile, but it ends up as a very slight grimace. Why was this so hard? I collected myself. “Hi,” I mutter as clearly as I can. “I love your shoes! Did you embroider them yourself?” They ask me. “I’m Hezel, by the way.” I wonder what it’s like to blush? This felt like an appropriate time for it to happen. “Thanks! I did! I’m Eza.” This is more talking to someone my age than I’ve done in a long, long time. I feel bubbly, like a good kind of electric. Is this love?

I don’t do this. I don’t fall in love, and I don’t talk about how I’m feeling. Never have. Only, he wants me to… and, I think I love him. I don’t even like typing that out. I feel … inferior in some odd way, knowing that this vulnerability can lead to sadness? Well, that’s a lot of emotion right there. I guess they’ve always been in me, just not always observed. I find myself wanting to cook dinner for him, cancel plans to stay with him, even stay home from work to be with him. Unlike me. I am … transforming. They say this is what life is all about, having someone to spend it with. Yet, who do we become when we lose ourselves for the other?