Love hurts

Never knew I would be the one saying this. But being in love is the worst feeling ever. It is even worse if he can't love you back.

He ran his hands through his hair and kept it there. He is doing it on purpose. He knows I am watching him. He knows I love his hair. He knows I have this biggest crush on him. He knows everything, but acts blind.

The pouring rain and boring class was enough for me to focus on him. The way he plays with his pen. The way he looks over at his friend every now and then. The way he shakes his head approving whatever the professor was teaching. The way his eyes reach mine often.

My friends are making fun of me. Stop staring and go for it, is what they say. But they don't know me, nor him. He will never accept me. He will never even think of a relationship. He is not in a situation to love. I know. And I won't dare to.

I was watching the rain through the window when I heard a sudden noise. He has collapsed, with a throbbing headache. I jumped up from my seat and made my way over to him among every other classmate.

He crumpled like a paper and was sobbing. His silent cries made my heart ache. I saw this exact same scene a few months ago on our way back home. His hands pulled harshly at his soft hair. He was groaning in pain.

My throat went dry, mind hollow. A soft whimper left my mouth and let myself fall back into a chair. Tears broke out and I could feel my heart breaking. I broke down and one of my friends comforted me. I don't know who did it, but I am grateful for her deed.

Professor rushed back into our class with a group of people who took him away. My sobs were suffocating me. And I don't care if I die right now. I know he has a tumor. It took me a lot of time to snap out of the sudden rush of sympathy when I heard it from his mom at the hospital. I feared that sympathy would take over love. I don't know but it did.

I don't remember the last time I took in a proper breath. My vision is blurry. I don't want to see anyone. I haven't let my friend go from the comforting embrace. I need it. Otherwise, I would die from this feeling.

She noticed me struggling to breathe and pulled away from the hug. I shivered at the sudden loss of comfort. I could see her gesture to take deep breaths through clouded vision. I did as I was told. I felt myself coming back from my panic attack. But my sour feeling refused to leave.

I know he is struggling. He doesn't want anyone else to grieve for him. He wants to leave without any traces. But what about me? I have no hope about us, neither does he. He is trying to run away from this mess, leaving me behind, all alone.

He returned after 2 weeks. Those were the longest weeks I ever had. Everyone was rushing to question his health, but I didn't move. I stayed still at my seat, watching him interact. He is flashing his smile above his pain. He is ensuring everyone. I can't ask him. I can't hear his lie of being fine. His face reveals his pain. Sunken eyes, dry lips, low voice. I shut my eyes firmly, feeling the beat of my heart. I can't watch this.

I stood up abruptly. We all gasped at the sudden noise of my chair falling down from my sudden movement. I just welcomed unwanted attention from everyone, including his. I stared at the collapsed chair behind me and then to him. He is staring at me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and hesitantly walked out of the class. I ran to the rooftop, ignoring all the worried and confused glances of other students. I sat in the shadows feeling the warm air in my face. The sky is clear and blue. Sun is being so tough. I pulled my knees close to my chest. I already regret getting out at this hour.

But I regretted the most when he sat down next to me. I sat up steady, avoiding his eyes. He is doing the same. Butterflies appeared inside me and my heart was threatening to jump out. What is he going to ask? What am I going to reply? It is clear that he knows my feelings for him. But I can't answer his why or when. Because I don't know either. It just happened out of the blue.

Time ran. But we stayed.

The silence around was comfortable, more like an agreement. He turned to face me for the first time since he sat down. I searched his eyes for answers. His eyes softened while his lips gave a reassuring smile. He turned back to the blue sky. I withdrew my eyes and let my head fall on his shoulder. After a minute, his head rested on top of mine. That was enough.

This silence spoke louder and clearer than words. It is more than what I could wish for. More than anything I ever wished for. Even though some questions remained unanswered, I am happy. He brought my hands up to hold against his. I watched as he played with my finger, so carefully as if I would get hurt.

I closed my eyes at his presence beside me. The warm breeze went by us.

I smiled at the thought of us.

Love is meant to hurt. The cost gives the emotion its beauty and worth. And I am grateful for experiencing it, atleast once.