I hated her. I hated how she ignored his efforts even though he would kill for her, even though he was standing there pouring his heart out to her, and she was just silent, letting him walk away without even saying anything.

She didn’t know I was watching, but I was. I had seen everything.

“I love you,” He said, and she stared at him, watching as he left her, watching as he got into his car and drove away.

I wish I were her. I would call him up, tell him I was completely and utterly in love with him, and we would be together just like it was meant to be.

But no, she had to be stupid and stubborn and stuck up, worrying about what other people though before considering her own opinion.

He was terribly misunderstood, a troublemaker, while she was a child prodigy, destined to do great while he just wandered, doing what he wanted while he felt like.

In my opinion, the latter is the better plan. In my opinion it is better to do what you feel like in the moment, to be spontaneous, than to follow a strict regiment, to go through life doing what everyone else tells you, doing what they want you to do.

What is life if it is not spontaneous? Why are we here if it is not to do what we want? How could she not love him? I would die for him, I would die to touch him, to know that he was mine and that he loved me, and no one else.

She jus t let him drift away, like sand being washed away by the tide.

But me, I love the sand, and I would stand in the water’s way, fighting to protect my square of beach, fighting to protect the essence of love and freedom.