He was so far gone, but he still knew me. Half of me wish he didn't, that he had never intruded in my life. He ruined me, but i wanted him to. I wanted him to fill every part of my dreams, and he did. He filled them with love and security. Things he would never really share with me, not while i was awake. Yet, i soaked as much of him up as i could, i needed him in the fantasies. Of course, eventually i needed more, i needed reality. So, i created a fantasy i could control.

BA-Bump!
I think i screamed. I fell over on my side onto the bus seat in agony. The pain made my throat hiccup sobs. I clutched my hand to my bloody temple. I pulled my hand away and stared at the red stained cracks in my palm. Terrified, i laid it back over my head, over my blotched face. The boy across the aisle stopped laughing. I was out before the bus stopped.

The very first dream of him was elegantly simple. He walked me home after school, to my old house, my favorite house. Then he kissed me, my first kiss. If you had looked at my face while I’d been sleeping I’d bet I’d be smiling.

The next dream was rather odd. We were in gym class, I hated gym. When class ended, he lead me to a room above, its’ steps rather steep, and a cliff appeared beneath our feet. He had taken me away. Below was a large body of water with no land in the distance that I could see. I dove in and he followed.

The last dream came to me while I had been sleeping after surgery in the hospital about a month ago. I’d been thinking about returning to school after my recovery. At least one thing would be worth this disaster, attention. My life was over, might as well dream that he cared. In the dream, I ran to fifth period English. He took me into his arms, and I cried on his shoulder. I was happier there than I would be anywhere else, where he cared for me half as much as I did for him. The entire class knowing what had happened to me, one by one formed a circle around us. My closest friends put a hand on our shoulders, the others touching they’re shoulders.

I was disturbingly inspired.

I didn’t have to be here, I could continue my life in wonderful dreams, in eternal sleep.

Today was a Wednesday, that funny freshmen in seat twelve wouldn’t have drama club, so he would entertain the occupants on the bus. No one would think about sleeping, he was too irresistible. It was also when the boy two stops before I got off would pull in his empty trash cans as we rounded the neighbors drive way to turn around. But most importantly, it was one of the farthest stops from any other bus route, hospital, or fire department. A lonely country road where it would take too long for any one who needed help.

I had watched as the boy walked passed the landscape in his front yard, unnoticing the missing rock in its arrangement on the far side. I then watched him discover it as he pulled the trash cans from the curb. I turned up my music player louder as I waited, and lay my head upon the windows ledge. The back right wheel jolted upward under my seat, crashing my temple twice against the harsh metal.

I hoped the real him would find someone better then me. For about a month I’d known that I couldn’t be the best one for him. I could not give him what I’d wanted to most: a child. How could I dare tempt him with a life without those possibilities. I refused. So I eliminated myself as an option. My love for him killed me.

I hate that I loved you.