What I Want, What He Wants, What She Wants, What They Want

They say that high school is a good time to experiment. You know...figure out what you like and what you need to function like a standard human being! It's also when we're hormonal, emotional, and overall, a wreck.

A giant, mental, and emotional wreck.

Personally, I don't see the good in putting so much pressure on high schoolers when they're having an existential crisis. You could be having a panic attack due to an identity crisis, all while trying to study for your math test on derivatives. How can modeling the rate of how fast water falls down a cone help you fix your life?

It really can't. Besides maybe giving you some fulfillment from solving the problem itself.

Society is pretty messy. There's an image of what a "villain" would be, the "pedestrian" and the "hero". Heroes are fun and all until you hit teenagerhood, faced with the choices of what seems to look good, and what you truly want.

And that, my dear friends, is what high school is for.

**********

I sat in the library with Fiaz. Neither of us had much to do today, besides spilling the tea of course. Fiaz had run into some love problems he needed help on himself! The librarian and I listened to his story before brainstorming ideas.

He described quite the situation...a close friend who liked him but someone who he couldn't return those feelings for.

"Make sure you make it clear that you're not interested," our librarian suggested. I nodded my head in agreement, "Make sure you say it firmly and sternly! Don't smile or joke around!"

Our librarian also listened to Fiaz and I talk about my dilemma.

"Oh you know," she began, "I had a friend who used to work here. It turns out she wasn't the person I thought she was...and I couldn't get over it."

I stared wide-eyes at our amazing librarian. Thinking of what I had been going through for the past few weeks. my heart immediately sank. No one deserved to go through that. It was just too much for any human to bear. Knowing that our kind-hearted librarian had to go through that made me feel sad for her...

"But anyhow, I decided to type out a letter to her, and when I was done, I had a friend read it outloud. I said things on there that I'd NEVER say in person," she whispered. I stared wide-eyed at her, studying this kind soul, who devoted her time to helping kids find books and finish papers...and solve quarter-life crisis-es apparently!

My eyes lit up as I turned back to Fiaz (and Zoë, who had recently walked in and joined us around the table).

"I'm going to write a letter to Alex."

And so I began. It took little to no effort, as weeks of wondering and bottled up questions spilled over the page. Why do you think you're justified? Truly? Why?

I laid my head on the table for a moment, panting like I had just ran across the street. My heart was beating rapidly. Thoughts overflowed from my brain to my hands as the thoughts were transcribed into words and words into paragraphs, forming a long and lengthy letter.

Why were you being so touchy with him?

Is it really necessary for you guys to be cuddling like that? So much that it's hard to tell whose leg is whose? Did I really have to say it outloud?

But that wasn't the main question I had in mind.

The real question was...

Why was I abandoned?

An underlying fear.

Watching them hang out together without me. Without a word of invitation. Without welcoming. Wondering where they had gone every morning, trying to join in the games but only to turn away when I saw how close they were.

Another part of me felt bad.

Why can't I let go of our past relationship? Why do I mind the fact they're being so touchy with each other? Is this their fault or mine? Or perhaps...

There was no fault.

I loved Alan. Alan loved me. We had been together, close-knit, best friends, for an entire year. That relationship was cut off like a thin thread. And now, instead of grieving for the loss, it was as if I had to quickly get over it and understand...everything?

Well what is everything?

Miscommunication? Hoping I'd go and find them if I felt lonely? Alas...if only humans were so simple.

I've reached out.

I've tried to talk.

I've hoped they'd understand why I'd be grieving.

But instead I was shoved off into the corner like an old forgotten toy.

"You've been a shitty friend."

Harshest words I've ever written, yet I still have no regrets.

**********

The next day was filled with confusion and passed like a tsunami. Totally unexpected yet devastating in every way imaginable.

"...you went too far."

What I had wondered to myself seemed to have been confirmed. I went too far. I was too harsh. My feelings were selfish and cruel. This was all my fault wasn't it?

She was mad and sad.

Skipping lunch, I ran downstairs with Alan and stood outside the classroom door. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door nervously and scanned the room. Alex was sitting on the left side, her body turned away from me but definitely able to notice my presence.

I took another deep breath, trying to swallow in my tears.

"Alex, can we please talk?" I asked.

"Not now," she insisted. Or did she say "not today"? Does that really matter though? She was refusing to speak with me. I felt a tinge in my chest and swallowed, trying to calm my nerves and tried again, ignoring the eyes that were pinned to me.

Same response.

I shut the door and let out a shaky breath.

What do I want?

Well, I wish things could go back to the way they were before, but that's not a viable option. The system that worked before where Alan and I hung out and tried to keep Alex in the loop wouldn't work for me, because I'd only end up being hurt. Therefore, I avoided them, and they avoided me.

I glanced back at the shut door.

But what was right?

1:40 hit. The hallway quickly filled with students and backpacks. I stared at the main hallway to see if Alex would come out, and sure enough, I saw her walking.

With Alan close behind, I ran towards her, shoving my way through the crowd as I dodged backpacks. Finally, I was right behind her.

Gathering the most solid voice as I could muster, I breathed once again and asked her the question again, my voice trembling a little this time.

"Alex, can we please just talk?"

"I'd be willing to talk to you in a month."

I don't quite remember what my reaction was at that point, but I think I said "welp" and moved passed her and Alan to my next class.

I felt: done.

Why did I have to reach out every time? Why did I have to explain myself and chase her down every single time when this should be common sense? Why wasn't she there for me and did the very thing that would hurt me the most?

"She promised to never date him because she likes you more."

The voices in my head screamed.

That didn't matter so much when they acted like they were dating and just didn't put a label on, did it? Walking together to every class, cuddling and hugging at every available opportunity way more than other people, it was practically dating...just deniable.

I walked into class, dumped my backpack on the table, put my head down and wondered.

How did it come to this? How did it become this way? Am I a horrible person? A non-standardized human?

Perhaps I'm not just.

Perhaps I'm being selfish.

But please let me indulge myself to heal from the scars of pain.

Is it wrong to not be a hero?