Rainy Daze

August 28, 2010
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I slammed the car door, feeling the rain greet me with a sharp drop in temperature. I didn't care that I was currently in the process of getting soaked; the only thing that mattered was the knot of anger forming in my throat. My eyes were tempted to leak hot tears, but I fought the urge by embracing the coolness of the rain, as well as slamming the cab door as hard as I possibly could. I was done. I heard thunder rumble in the distance and I clenched my teeth, irritated that the storm was getting progressively worse like my anger. For once I wanted to be the center of attention; I didn't want the world to carry on without me.

Lately my anger has become a huge issue in my life. It's like it's a dormant animal that springs to life at any moment, ready to attack. The unfortunate thing was that he was the trigger for my anger. Every emotion I felt, every thought that raced through my head...they were all centered around one person.

I could recall earlier that day, when we sat in his apartment messing with the piano. He seemed to have an ear for music, and we formed a bond over our shared hobby. I would add a smooth vocal over his powerful piano, and the combination of both left us with something that was simply beautiful. I would throw myself into our daily one-hour sessions, giving it my all as I explored every place in my psyche for emotion, willing to put my whole heart into the music we were creating. This had become my everything. He had become my escape.

He had even confirmed it, the day he held my hand and moved close to me, telling me calming words and sweet nothings. The saddest thing was that I believed every word he said. I didn't just want to believe it...I needed to. I needed to believe that someone had taken an interest in me. Otherwise, I would have wasted my time getting attached to someone who wasn't even remotely interested which was pointless to begin with. At this point I wasn't looking for friends; I had plenty of those killjoys. No, I needed true, loving companionship; I needed a relationship that went further with the opposite sex. It was almost an addiction of mine, friendship with guys. Never in the sexual sense, of course, but still an addiction nonetheless.

I opened the door to my dorm room, crashing onto my slim, cheap mattress in my soaked jeans and jacket. I pulled the soggy hood over my hair, black hair falling down in tresses around my eyes. I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget the fact that today he had denied the chemistry, denied the fact that he had felt something for me. Was it really that hard to love me?

I rolled over onto my side, concentrating on some obscure scuff mark on the white wall. That was my life. An obscure scuff mark on the white wall of life. I went unnoticed, and if I was for some odd reason discovered I was seen as an imperfection in something so uniform. I kicked the wall again, leaving a muddy footprint before hearing a harsh knock from the dorm next door. I clenched my eyes shut, shaking with anger as my blood reached a boiling point. I was pissed off. I was beyond pissed off. I was...I was irate. Enraged.

Only two words resided in my mind at this point.

Forget Love.





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