Story I Wrote Awhile Ago

“Rose,” He took my hand. “Everything will be fine.” He wiped a tear away just before it was about to fall off my face. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He embraced me and everything seemed fine for a minute. 

And then I woke up. The alarm clock played a song and let me know it was time I dragged my body out of bed at six in the morning for another day of school. Every single  day, the same routine. I wake up, do my hair, get dressed, brush my teeth, and try to keep from breaking down due to the exhaustion I feel. 

I’m always so tired. I can rarely sleep at night. It’s ironic considering how much I love sleep. It’s an escape from the real world. A place where I can just be numb, or even happy. Happy like I was last night. I got a whole six hours of sleep and dreamed that the guy I’ve liked for a long time was with me, keeping my tears from soaking my clothes. 

School that day was the same as everyday; long, boring, educational. The highlights of my day are the times when I get to see Christopher. No one makes me feel like he makes me feel. Happy. People come close to making me happy, but no one ever seems to succeed like he does.

Pretty soon it was lunch time. I put my math book in my locker and walked down the long hall to the crowded lunchroom. “Rooooose!” Christopher elongated my name as he approached me. 

“Chriiiiistopher!” I smiled and elongated his name as he did mine. “Are you getting lunch?” 

“No, but I’ll stand in line with you.” He stood in line with me to get lunch almost everyday.  

“Oh, alright.” I smiled at him. We then had our normal conversations about classes, teachers, and people. This was just another day. 

DIFFERENT PART OF THE STORY THAT I HAVEN'T GOTTEN TO YET 

“Christopher, I really like you.” I couldn’t stop myself from blurting that out in a moment like this. Luckily it was only at a whisper. “No, I love you.” Now I felt like covering my mouth with my hands, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. ‘Why? Why? WHY?’ I yelled at myself in my head. 

“I love you, too. You’re one of my best friends.” Was his response. 

“Friends.” I repeated, the sorrow in my voice more obvious then I hoped. 

“Yeah, friends. That’s all we’ll ever be. It’s all we’re meant to be. Friends.” I wanted to run away in that moment. How was I supposed to respond to that? I did the only thing I had the strength to do. I didn’t make a sound. I just sat in the silence.