Do you know that girl that made you feel warm yet uneasy inside? The one you noticed because no one else did. The one who sat quietly at the back, an observer of the world, just like you. Do you remember how intriguing it was to see how someone so familiar yet so very wild and interesting, in a lovely sort of way?
As you see her amble along the corridor from a side room with your head nested in your arms, you can't help but daydream about how your troubles would vanish like a puddle in the sun, if she was by your side. A tranquil escape from your monotonous everyday.
Your dream is cut short, however. As your absent-minded gaze follows her, your eyes land a boy who is facing in the opposite direction from you. It is of no consequence that you can't see his face, his trademark thick, golden hair is enough for you to recognise him. The same boy whose chest you bumped into making your way to class. The boy with the handsome grin, the one you have to crane your neck upwards to look in the eye. The person you can only yearn to be.
She looks up at the boy, then down again, then sheepishly smiles and lets out a giggle. You begin to feel ill, not out of jealousy, but rather out of hopelessness. You feel a burning shame as your deluded fantasies lay discarded, all shredded and crumpled, and you're wholly preoccupied with that thought that you will never give her butterflies like him, that you just don't cut it. In that instant, you feel that dying is a more admirable alternative than living a dismal life, where you can please no one for romance's sake.
The ear splitting ring of the bell awakes you from your haze. You stand up and shake off any feelings of sorrow, leaving you with the numb sensation you so familiarise with. Except, a tiny morsel of pain remains in your soul, but you don't notice. Nobody else notices.
Tldr; Incel
As you see her amble along the corridor from a side room with your head nested in your arms, you can't help but daydream about how your troubles would vanish like a puddle in the sun, if she was by your side. A tranquil escape from your monotonous everyday.
Your dream is cut short, however. As your absent-minded gaze follows her, your eyes land a boy who is facing in the opposite direction from you. It is of no consequence that you can't see his face, his trademark thick, golden hair is enough for you to recognise him. The same boy whose chest you bumped into making your way to class. The boy with the handsome grin, the one you have to crane your neck upwards to look in the eye. The person you can only yearn to be.
She looks up at the boy, then down again, then sheepishly smiles and lets out a giggle. You begin to feel ill, not out of jealousy, but rather out of hopelessness. You feel a burning shame as your deluded fantasies lay discarded, all shredded and crumpled, and you're wholly preoccupied with that thought that you will never give her butterflies like him, that you just don't cut it. In that instant, you feel that dying is a more admirable alternative than living a dismal life, where you can please no one for romance's sake.
The ear splitting ring of the bell awakes you from your haze. You stand up and shake off any feelings of sorrow, leaving you with the numb sensation you so familiarise with. Except, a tiny morsel of pain remains in your soul, but you don't notice. Nobody else notices.
Tldr; Incel
