Both Sides to the Story

She fell in love.

A boy in her class.

She doesn’t know when it first began, or how,

but she knows it isn’t a new feeling.

He would lean his arm on her desk and tell her funny jokes.

She would laugh for hours if the teacher didn’t glare at the two of them, every class period.

Then she would blush, knowing the fact that she laughed too loud.

She looked over at him, but he was already smiling at her.

She would help him whenever he asked, and in return he would say,

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She would ignore his gratitude with an eye roll, because of course he was being dramatic, but she couldn’t lie that her heart was racing and a blush was forming.

She would see him sometimes at lunch, at a table with his friends.

She studied his face, his features.

He always looked so carefree, so happy.

She smiled.

She was in love.

She is.

She would always sneak glances of him whenever she could, because she couldn’t help it.

Her heart had authority over her mind.

But this time, this glance broke her heart

Time slows down as she watches a girl approach him.

She watches him envelop this girl in a hug.

Nothing much.

But then she sees him laugh with her. Smile at her. He looks happy.

“Why would I ruin that?” she wondered.

Looking away, she wipes her tears with the palm of her hand, turns around and leaves the cafeteria.

“He would never love me.”

He was in love with her.

A girl in his class.

He doesn’t know what this feeling is, or how to describe it,

but he knows it’s a feeling that only happens around her.

She would send him texts during class to make sure that he was always smiling.

He would get so caught up in replying to her that he never noticed when the teacher would come up to him with a hand out, every class period.

Then he would glance over at her and act angry.

But how could he act angry with such a beautiful smile on her face?

He would give her a pen whenever she asked, because she was too nice of a person to say no to someone who asked her for one, which in result, lead to this dilemma. In return she would say,

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He would ignore the fact that she stole his line with a smirk, because of course she was being funny, but he couldn’t lie that his heart was racing and his mind thought of so many different scenarios.

He would see her sometimes in the morning, talking to her friends.

He studied her face, her features.

She always looked beautiful, and happy.

He smiled.

He was in love.

He is.

He would always sneak glances of her whenever he could, because he couldn’t help looking at that smile.

His heart had authority over his mind.

But this time, this glance broke his heart

Time slows down as he watches a boy approach her.

He watches her as this guy kisses her cheek.

Nothing much.

But then he sees her laugh with him. Smile at him. She looks happy.

“Why would I ruin that?” he wondered.

Looking away, he grips his backpack strap so hard that his hand turns white, looks around and leaves to go to his locker.

“She would never love me.”

The worst part is that you only know your side, you never know the other side of the story.

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