17 XVII

Alexander David

"HOW DO YOU make me this fucking happy?" I smile and shake my head in disbelief, staring right at her with every ounce of admiration.

"I probably don't. I could never make anyone happy," she answers blandly, a sigh leaving her lips.

"Yes, yes you can."

"I can't even bring joy to myself, how the hell can I bring joy to anyone else?"

"You don't care about yourself, you're too busy caring for others."

She shrugs, probably not believing me. People with self-esteem like hers were quite closed minded when it came to them. "Whatever, other people have said this."

"You've proven yourself wrong, and anyone else who claimed to that utter bullshit. Just because you aren't everyone else's masterpiece, doesn't mean you aren't mine."

"How did I get so lucky?" She says, looking at me, up and down, as if I wasn't even real.

"Yeah," I reply, "How did you get so lucky?" With a laugh, she raises her middle finger and I kiss it with a wink.

"What do you even like about me?" She giggles, as her light blonde hair dances through the air, smelling of roses and a distant aroma of cigarettes. "I mean, look at you," she gasps, tracing a few of my facial features as I began to smile at her gestures.

"No, no, look at you," I correct her, kissing her temple as her eyes sparkle and I could look into those spirals of hers for eternity. "Your smile makes Devils want to do good, my love," I speak, cupping her cheek with my hand as my head rested against the white pillow on the small bed of 505.

"You're so fucking cheesy," She laughs once again, her hair sprawling all over the shared pillow. Taking out my hands, I wrap them around her nearly invisible waist and pull her closer towards me as her laugh dies down and she just looks at me.

"We are quite a cheesy couple," I nod in agreement with a smile on my face, as I removed one of my hands from her waist and rubbed circles onto her thigh in reassurance. "But fuck, do you make me happy," I smile wider and kiss her neck.

"You swoop in with all your beautiful words, and care, but it's all bullshit!"She screams, pulling away from me. "Try to fucking call me beautiful now, Alex. Try to fucking call me beautiful, now! Oh wait you can't, because all you were doing it for was yourself, to have the-"

I scream, scream from the top of my lungs, aching my throat and collarbones, as I jumped up from my sleeping position with my breaths heavy and sweat trickling down my forehead.

It was another nightmare, except these only were worse. They were so much more realistic now that I had heard her words. I now know her reaction. I can feel that she hates me, and there was nothing I could do about it and I couldn't feel more distraught, more upset.

They were a mix of beautiful flashbacks, with traumas of us talking for the last time. It was the end; there was no more. The fantasy had ended, the seemingly everlasting dream had come to a close and I couldn't accept it.

I hated not having her. I hated that I fucked it all up, even though what I told her was a lie. I couldn't believe what I had done, I wanted to scream again with heavy breaths and realise that it was just a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Maybe I should've been selfish, and left her mental health alone, maybe I should've stayed with her and hurt her a couple of times. Maybe I should've loved her and treated her the way that she deserved.

Maybe I should've told her how much she meant to me and what a difficult situation I was in, and then she could've helped me. But then she would've told me that my job was more important and I wouldn't be with her anymore.

At least then she would've known the truth. She would've known that I struggled and I actually cared about her, like I still do. She'll never believe me; she'll never like me.

We could've been in love; we could've been absolutely happy, elated even. Smiles would probably never left our faces, and she would've gotten over her disorders, she wouldn't have to be constantly burdened by her own self.

She probably isn't even hurt, just angry, and probably completely happy that I, the twat, am no longer a part of her life. It's all my fault honestly. Before she even figured out who I was, I didn't have to initiate the relationship. I'm supposed to be the adult here, and at my eldest, I have acted so reckless.

All my life I had wondered what heartbreak was. How it could ache and change you forever, if it was someone who mattered. You hear all of this floating around, but no one really does know of true heartache until one has experienced it. It's just empty words.

Days and days I had wondered how someone could stop everything they were doing. How could you stop eating, drinking and sleeping or do even more of that? How could you not use or abuse those needs?

People are precious, my young mind had once thought. If they mattered, why would they leave? Why would they hurt you and harm you, if they cared? And if they purposely harmed you, they had absolutely no worth within your life, right? Turns out it's not that black and white, at all. I have never cared about someone so much and I have fucked up beyond measure.

Wiping off the sweat that was forming on my forehead, I sigh. It had been such a long time since I had sighed upon waking up, normally most days I would wake up with a smile on my face, knowing that somebody cared about me. Kimberly cared about me.

Unlike most things, when you haven't done something in a while, you begin to miss it; hence the saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder" but it wasn't like that when it came to being unhappy. I hated this, I hated everything alone yet admired every inch of things when it came to being with Kimberly.

She's one of those people who you can't picture life without, despite me living quite a life before her, my life before her is nothing compared to life during her. We have quite an age gap, too. Seven years feels like zero. She's mature and incredible, and I'm blind to everything when she isn't there.

Life is a living hell without her; it seems to have no bumps, but rather a smooth ride. I used to prefer the smooth ride, but upon experiencing the bumpy one, I'll have to disagree with the younger version of myself. There was constant excitement in the bumpy ride; in the smooth one it was just routine that needed to be followed. It has no purpose; it was plain and boring.

It wasn't as though it was that kind of love, the love where people couldn't live without one another, that just seemed unhealthy to me. It was the thought that I had hurt her; that I was the reason that this entire relationship went to shit. The fact that I had hurt her for my own gain, but I've never lost so much before. I missed it; I missed what we had. I couldn't live with myself; I couldn't live knowing that I had hurt someone that I cared most about.

It wasn't as though it was an accident either; I had chosen it. I had chosen to hurt her, to leave her, for the sake of her. She was still hurt and it seemed that my plan of healing her was going to absolute shit. Everything was nowadays. What we had been special, horrible, and incredibly beautiful. I loved every second of it, and I want it back.

I finally decided to get up, before I clouded myself with anymore terribly upsetting thoughts, which were bound to come to me if I didn't get up soon. It was time to put my front on. I practised a series of fake smiles and laughs before sighing and burying my face in my hands.

After cleansing myself head to toe, I stared at the suit; the suit I had worn upon meeting Kimberly. I had avoided this one so much, I dreaded wearing this one. It brought so many memories that I couldn't wear, as I had thought about her too much already and this would just make it worse. I was never going to wear that suit again, never again. I wasn't ready; I was nowhere near ready to face that day, or anything to do with that. I miss her, so, so much.

I slammed the cupboard door hard and exhaled loudly. Before opening the door again, I shut my eyes, and all I could see was she, her smiling and laughing, looking nothing else other than stunning.

I close my eyes and let my hand wander around the hangers. I grasped a hanger. Okay, a navy suit it is.

I didn't deserve seeing Kimberly. Next week she was to transfer, as it would be the end of the term and she would be free from me, and maybe then she'll finally be okay. Maybe then she'll be set free from me. It would be easier for me too, but I didn't care about that, I cared that she was finally going to get over me, and then she'll be able to move on, perhaps on to Richard? I don't know, Richard never dropped any hints on fancying her anyways. Maybe it was because I was there, and I was stopping them from getting together. Oh look, another thing that I've fucked up. Does the list ever end?

At least now they can be happy. They're both the same age, and they've known each other for longer as well, so there's chemistry there as well. They're perfect for each other. Richard's the best and that's what she deserves.

Spraying some cologne, and a tic tac in my mouth, I exit the flat. With a pack of cigarettes stuffed in my pocket, that was bound to spike up my energy, which was exactly what I needed right now.

I decided to walk to school instead of driving, one of the reasons being that I wanted to ache the shit out of my legs so then I could feel something real other then the heartbreak and ache I was experiencing.

I fished out a cigarette and felt in complete bliss once my lips had become attached to it, attached to the temporary facade of peace. I shut my eyes as I inhaled, briefly opening as I allowed the smoke to exit, forming a cloud around me. I shut my eyes again. There she was, her wide gaze, shocked that I was smoking with her. I felt myself smile.

I had been going over William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet, a famous play, which almost everyone knows of, but I found it rather soothing and beautiful in a time like this.

Act one scene five had to be my favourite for the obvious reasons, such as it being the scene in which Romeo and Juliet meet, and overall, it is a very dramatic scene, and I can't wait to do examine this play with my class soon.

Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear,

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows

As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,

And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

I loved that part, and I had memorised it, which was no surprise since I spent ages figuring it out, when I was younger. But more recently I had been reading it over and over again which made me feel like Kimberly as this was something she did consistency, right? She was always buried in hidden meanings.

My legs began to carry a slightly painful ache in my legs, which only grew with time that I chose to ignore because it was what I wanted. I wanted ache; I wanted pain.

My face started to feel weird as I stepped in the building as it had became accustomed to the slap of fresh air, which was no longer inside the building as the heaters were all on as it was completely freezing, but I couldn't be bothered to put a jumper on.

I politely greeted a few staff whilst on the way to my classroom as I slapped the desk with my briefcase and took out the materials I needed for the day and put my cigarettes back inside the briefcase. The last thing I needed people to find out about was my smoking.

Grabbing a piece of chalk, I scribble the date, title, and learning outcomes before rubbing my hands together as I shiver at the temperature. I hope Kimberly is wearing an extra layer, knowing that her body is only skin and bones; she would probably freeze to death in this weather.

After planning a few lessons and marking a few books, my first class comes in, and upon checking my timetable; I find out that it's indeed Kimberly's class. Another lesson filled with me avoiding Kimberly's gaze and vice versa.

All of the children come in, but the only person I notice is her. Her blonde hair shining in the classroom light following her as she walks towards her seat, without looking at me at all. I guess that's how it is now.

"Morning, how are we all?" I fake smile, looking around at everyone as they all mumble an 'ok' or a 'good'. 'Right," I speak, clapping my hands together, as I notice that Kimberly finally snapped her head at me, and our eyes lock for a split second, which I knew was going to be the only highlight of my day.

Tearing my eyes away from her direction, I look in the centre of the class, and try my hardest to carry on teaching. "We'll be moving from descriptive writing for now, but it will help in your assessment in the future," I speak, before Alexa raised her hand, and I unintentionally glared at her before nodding and letting her speak.

"What will the assessment be?" She speaks, batting her eyelashes innocently, indicating that she had done nothing wrong which made it harder for me not to roll my eyes at her.

I chew the inside of my cheek. "A monologue on either Romeo or Juliet, which is supposed to be set after act one scene five-"

"One of the most dramatic scenes in the play, the scene of when they fall in love, right?" she remarks smartly.

I quickly glance over at Kimberly. "Right you are, Miss Chung. Although we won't only just study act one scene five, rather the whole the play to gain a better understanding."

Harry raises is hand in the air, causing his curly hair to jump slightly at the action. "Yes, Mr Styles?"

Rubbing his neck in nervousness, I glance at Kimberly once again, and she looks as though she was looking at me earlier and turned away upon me noticing, though I ignored it. That didn't matter anymore, we were nothing and we were, most likely, going to stay like that.

"I'm sure we've all studied Romeo and Juliet, sir, as it is such a mainstream play," Harry states, not in a smart ass way, but more in an informative way.

"I am very aware of this, Mr Styles, but I'm sure you haven't studied the play in great depth as we are going to be doing for the next couple of weeks. Any more questions before we move on to the context?"

Richard's hand slices the air, as he swiftly raises it upwards. Kimberly's head snaps towards the direction of him and hisses at Richard, obviously unaware of his question. Gulping silently, I give him full permission to speak. "Yes Mr Glen?"

"In the beginning of a Midsummer's night dream-"

"We aren't studying A Midsummer's Night Dream, Mr Glen. We are studying Romeo and Juliet."

"You mean we're going to study, not we are studying," Richard speaks and I was highly surprised on how he was speaking towards me.

"Your question was?" I ask, wanting to keep this professional.

"Well, in the beginning, Demetrius leads Helena on, not actually loving her or whatever, but just making it seem as though he did. What do you think about that?" He glares at me, yet a smile is plastered on his lips to fool everyone else.