He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not... (boyxboy)

...pas du tout

Being with Stoner was like being on a rollercoaster.

It starts with anticipation, nerves growing with no idea what's ahead, your body just going with the flow as things progress, excitement slowly building as things move faster, quicker, further than you ever thought possible. 

The thrill builds and builds within you, higher and higher, more and more until you don't think you can contain it anymore, only for your body to explode with ecstasy as you hit the peak, your body flooded with that sizzling satisfaction, as if you've had an orgasm without the messy clean up afterwards.

You don't want anything else but this.

You get addicted to the high. 

You fall in love.

Stoner loves me.

You go up and down, around and around, enjoying every moment, every touch, every kiss, every whispered secret in the dark. You hang on when it gets crazy, gets wild, hoping to God that you can hold on forever.

But ultimately, every ride has to come to an end.

And with Stoner, you never knew just when that will be.

Never know when a person you thought you could trust turns on you out of the blue, throwing things back in your face wanting to hurt you.

Never know when you'll end up in your front hallway, crying hysterically as the person you love rips out a piece of your heart.

Never know when it will all come crashing down.

The slamming of your front door knocking the breath out of you body as the world that you've built falls in pieces around you.

"I've had my fun but I'm bored of it now, I'm bored of you, so I'm ending things here," Stoner had sneered, trying to kick me off as tried to stop him leaving. My face was covered with tears as he continued to deride me for how stupid I was. 

I guess I was, clinging desperately at him to stop him from leaving me.

How pathetic, really.

"This was just a game for me, Connor, isn't it obvious?"

It wasn't obvious, but maybe I had been blinded by him, by what I thought we'd had. I just played along with his messed up game to destroy my life, not even aware that what we had wasn't real. 

I didn't even have time to wonder if our love was real. 

He told me so himself.

"I don't love you, Connor, not even your mother loves you. What would make you think I'd ever love you?"

That may be the cruellest part of it all. The part that continues to shred my heart day after day. The part that makes me feel the emptiest because he was right, why would I think that?

Why would Stoner love me?

Stoner was the sun.

I was just the shadow.

But there's always that glimmer of hope, even in the darkness, isn't there?

The look of pain on Stoner's face that he tried to hide behind his sneer. The reluctance to truly hurt me as he tried to pry me off of him. The moment of hesitation as he stood in my front doorway just before he slammed the door. 

Maybe I was just imagining it. My brain's way of trying to cope with all of the emotions. Deluding myself to protect my sanity.

Or maybe he did love me, despite what he said.

Who knows.

I assume that's why Dr. Ansell made me write this story down. To help me process what happened between Stoner and I, to help me move on from him and what we had, help me find closure in some sort of way. 

That's the theory, I guess.

But if I were to be honest, more than I already have been so far, I'd tell you that all this has done is make me angry, even irrationally so.

Not at Stoner, nor at myself.

Not even his next victim, Caroline Brennan, all giggles and smiles as she hung off his arm in the cafeteria at lunch today. 

I guess I can only feel sorry for her. 

She'll see what Stoner will become. 

How can you hate the gazelle that's going to be devoured by the lion. 

No, the thing that fills me with rage, makes me want to go back in time and burn my mother's award-winning garden to the ground, is that stupid daisy that Stoner had chosen at random to present to me. 

The daisy whose petals I picked at, chanting a stupid children's nursery rhyme to determine the outcome of silly playground infatuations. 

The daisy who, by nature, just happened to have the right number of petals to plant the seed of hope that made me think that Stoner Wallis may actually love meone day.

The daisy with 15 lousy petals that let me down because Stoner decidedly never loved me, nor does he love me now.

Stoner doesn't love me.

Stoner doesn't love me.

Stoner doesn't love me.

One day I'll believe those words as much as I believed that daisy.

Today just isn't that day.

Stoner loves me not...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A/N: Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I just wanted to say that this story was Connor's diary, of sorts, from a teenage boy filled with self-loathing and low self-esteem, and a mother who doesn't think he or his family is good enough. So I hope you know where he's coming from when he continues to put himself down and is reluctant to demonise a person he admired. I personally don't agree with this view, but I understand the mind frame, I've been there and have grown to see how wrong it is. So, I hope for the Connors in the world out there, who don't think that they're enough, that they will learn that they are enough, and will stop tearing themselves down and start building themselves up.