It was so much simpler when we were younger…
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My classmates were always loud, but this morning in particular… It was the last day before Christmas break. Everyone was excited. No work today, break tomorrow. I sat in the bus, reading, not participating in the roughhousing and shenanigans of the other students. I liked reading. It made me feel like I could be someone else…someone from another world. Another story. The girl sitting next to me talked to her friend that was behind her. Their conversation distracted me.
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- - Oh, you’re sitting next to James. Said her friend, thinking I couldn’t hear.
- - Yeah…what did Timmy Louis call him, again? She asked.
- - I don’t remember…something with an f. He said it was a disease…f…
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I internally rolled my eyes and continued reading. Everything will be aright.
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I think I just realized what Timmy Louis called me in the 5th grade... Just before winter break. It’s funny the things you think about in a bus on the way to war… The simpler times. The times where if you had a problem, you could just go to mommy or daddy or Mrs. G. You didn’t have to look deep inside of you to find an answer within yourself. You didn’t need to work longer hours at your job to get more money for therapy. You just ate a damn cookie and walked it off. Now, I feel like I have too many problems…too much to all be solved by chocolate chips and cookie dough.
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- - James Baxter.
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I jerked my head up from my book.
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- - Um, uh…Here. I said.
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A couple of giggles escaped in the classroom. I could only assume they were directed toward me.
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- Thomas Scott.135Please respect copyright.PENANAeVoAXUICCp
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No answer. I didn’t know if Thomas was here today, or not, but if he was, he really had it in for himself. Meanwhile, I barely paid attention. I looked at my book. I like to read high school-level books, even though I’m in 4th grade. The one I’m reading currently is called “The Well of Loneliness”. I like it a lot, although my parents told me not to read that book. But when I saw an abandoned copy of it on the sidewalk and I read the first chapter, I fell in love with it. I can oddly relate to the main character, Stephen. She’s a misunderstood girl who doesn’t feel like she fits. Her parents loathe and resent her. I wonder why I feel a strange connection to her.
I guess I know why I had a strange connection to Stephen Gordon from The Well of Loneliness. A book my parents were less than happy that I was reading. Once they found it, they took it away from me and burned it in the fireplace, in front of my eyes. I did love that book… How did it end again? I can’t remember. That must have been 14 years ago. The bus took a violent stop, and I jerked forward. In walked mor nervous people. My death couldn’t come soon enough.
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It's a strange and complicated process to go to war… strangely enough, I’ve been standing here for almost two hours as a man in a green hat points at random people and puts them into “divisions”. I’m sure they aren’t random people, but to my eyes they are. No one really realizes how strange the process is until you actually get there.
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- - Alexander Williams, division five! Yelled the man.
- Yes sir!
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I dozed off.
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- - Um…William Alexanders! Said Frank, the school’s most popular boy.
- - Yes! Said William, relieved that he was picked to play dodgeball with Frank.
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I sat on the floor of the gym, dazed and reading a book. This one’s called The Green Hat by Michael Arlen. My teacher told me not to read that… “This is only the second grade!” She said. I rolled my eyes at her. I can handle it. She thinks I’m going to make the others feel bad about how much they read if they see me with big novels. I watched as the other boys were chosen to teams. I didn’t care if all the school was chosen, but me. I didn’t mind at all. Soon, everyone was in a team, except for me. Both captains, Frank and Tommy eyed each other, then me. Frank shrugged, Tommy shrugged. I’d rather stay to the side and not be in any team. The gym teacher saw their resistance to accepting me in a team, and stepped up, clearing his throat.
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- - Tommy, why don’t you take James on your team? He asked.
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Tommy groaned and rolled his eyes up to the sun.
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- - Aw, but he’s a fa-
- - No complaining, Tommy.
- - But-
- - I’ll take him in our team. Said Frank.
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My head jerked up. Not in a “my hero” kind of way, but in a “wow you really don’t care about your reputation” kind of way. I nodded, placed my book down with care, and waddled my pasty legs over to Frank and his now scoffing team. On my way, I tripped and fell. I was a bit embarrassed as Tommy and his team held in their giggles. I tried to clear my head as I got up, trying not to make eye contact. I fell once again, tripping on none other than Tommy Louis’ leg. There was a roaring of laughter throughout the gym. Even Mr. Owens was trying to hold in a chuckle. It seemed like everyone was laughing at my failure and ridiculousness. Almost everyone. Frank seemed…almost pitiful. It was somehow worse than the laughing. The pity. The “oh, God, poor pathetic James…”. Why can’t he just laugh like everyone else? Something happened to me that had never happened before. I was angry. I never cared about what people at school said about me until now. The whole class was either pitying me or laughing at me. I was the angriest I’ve ever been. While everyone laughed, I got up and balled my fist. Tommy changed his laugh to a mocking sound as we made eye contact. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying and I hit my fist across his face. Gasps were all around and Tommy fell over. He held his nose as it bled. I just breathed in and out, through gritted teeth.
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- - What the hell is wrong with you, you fa-
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I climbed on top of him and began hitting him and punching him. He attempted to fight back. There were even more gasps, some laughs, and some loud “Oh’s. Frank ran over to us to try and break us up. By then, I had a black eye and a bruised cheek. Mr. Owens came in and tried to stop it too. I emerged from that fight with a bloody fist and an even more broken reputation.
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- - James Baxter!! Yelled a voice, snapping me out of my thoughts.
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The man with the green hat who I assumed had a purpose was yelling my name, face red with anger. I immediately got snapped back into life and shook my head a bit, returning to the real world.
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- - Division six!
- - Huh? Oh, uh…yeah. Sure. I said, not thinking twice about what I was saying.
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Not just the man, but everyone in that room was staring at me with the most disgusted face. I just realized what I had said.
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- - What was that? He asked.
- - Um, yes sir…? I lied.
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This earned a long and judging stare from the man. He squinted at me, lips absentmindedly pursing. I gave an awkward smile and walked toward my division. There were about 10 people there. I noticed a tall blond boy with a serious and tired look. His hair looked like it took him all day to style, and his skin was as pale as a vampire. He looks fun. That was sarcastic, by the way. I also noticed a short black-haired boy with young eyes and a frantic gaze. He stood next to a half-smiling buff man with dirty blond, almost light brown hair. His eyes were green, and he stood with a completely straight posture. I stood in line, not really noticing who I was standing next to. The man with the green hat still stared at me.
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- - I’ve got my eye on you. He said in a deep voice.
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I nodded and I turned away. I then let out a sigh and groaned while mumbling “why”, which earned a giggle from my right side. My heart practically stopped when I turned toward a short blond-haired, blue-eyed boy. It was none other than Art Johnson.
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- - A-Art? I said, smiling at the fact that I knew someone in this godforsaken place.
- - Hey James! He saluted with two fingers.
- - What are you-…I mean, how are you-…I mean, - I’m really happy you’re here! I said.
- - So am I! I was worried because I didn’t know anybody here…what a coincidence that we would be in the same division! He smiled brighter than the sun.
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His smile was infectious, and I couldn’t stop a wave of blush to overtake my face. I looked at the ground, hoping to cover up that blush, but glanced up for one last look at that beautiful smile.
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Class #7 of Frances Fisher staring at me like there’s no tomorrow. I’m not blind. I can tell that she is infatuated with me. She’s a very nice girl, but I’m afraid I don’t like her like that… I’d rather not get into that kind of drama. I sat at my desk in math class, reading instead of paying attention. I’m in year four of high school, yet I still hate math. Frances sits two seats down. She stares at me, flirtatiously toying with a pencil that stood between her teeth. I moved my eyes up slightly and I made eye contact with her, by accident. She winked and bit her bottom lip at the mere action of meeting eyes. I felt nauseous. Like I said, Frances is an amazing girl, but I don’t think I have the energy for a committed relationship. The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Thank God. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could listen to Mr. Emit talk about algebra, or what not. I went to my locker to grab my coat, just to make sure I didn’t freeze in the cold December air. I felt a tap on my shoulder and immediately turned around, startled. It was Frances Fisher.
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- - Hi, James! She smiled.
- - Hi, Frances. I said, a lot less enthusiastic than her.
- - So…what will you be doing this Saturday? She asked, all of her ten fingers intertwined and slightly swinging side to side.
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I didn’t know what to say. I knew what came next. She would ask me to go out with her. I would have to say yes, because I have an extremely hard time saying no.
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- - Um…I’m super busy…I got baseball practice. I lied.
- - Oh…and Sunday? She asked.
- - Church day…then I got a family get-together. I (untruthfully) said, shrugging.
- - Well, how long is your baseball practice? I love baseball! I could come see you! She said.
- - Oh, well, um, no visitors allowed, sorry…a-and it’s from 10 Am to 6 Pm. I said.
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She smirked and handed me a paper with an address written on it.
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- - Pick me up at 8. She winked.
- - I-
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She cut me off and walked away. Oh lord. What did I get myself into?
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- - James? Said Art, waving his hand in front of my face.
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I blinked a bunch of times.
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- - Huh? What? I said, confused.
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Art laughed a bit.
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- - The general is talking. He whispered, his eyes going back and forth from me and the general.
- Ohhh, he’s a general? I asked, finally realizing the man in the green hat’s position.
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He laughed again and looked at me if I was joking. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned his head back to the general.
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- - Uh, sector 5… along with division sixty-one…
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I rolled my eyes at this boring nonsense. That made Art giggle, but try to hold it in.
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- - Since you have been here for longer, you will be going to Pearl Harbour in Hawaii. He continued.
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I squinted. They get to go to Hawaii. Beautiful, beach-full, fun, rainbow state, kind Hawaii. Where the hell am I going?? The general turned his head toward my division and a couple of other ones.
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- - Division four, five and six, will be shipped off to Germany.
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My heart dropped. Germany?! Really?! The core of the war. Everything is happening there. Hitler is there. I’m going there too, now?! How are we even going to get there? I already get slightly motion sick from being in a car for 20 minutes…what will I do in a boat for 17 days? Tears filled my eyes. Before, I was scared because I knew I was leaving everything I knew behind. Now I’m really leaving everything I know. It just makes it so much more real knowing I’ll die millions of miles from home. I ran a shaky hand through my sweaty hair. Oh God. I’m going to die, aren’t I?
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I stood in front of the body-length mirror at the door, flattening the ugly, wrinkled button-up I had on. It was white and made me look even paler than I already was. Like I’ve never been outside a day in my life. I scoffed at myself. What’s wrong with me? Why did I agree to this? I don’t love her…if the date goes well for her, we’ll see each other again, and possibly get married. I can’t marry her. I’m not ready. I’ve never even loved anyone, yet. I finally noticed how strange that was. My dad entered the room, nosy smile on his face. He approached me, hands behind his back.
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- - Hey, James. He said.
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I hesitated to answer.
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- - Um…yes? I said.
- - Ready for your outing?
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He then laughed a bit.
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- - I didn’t know my son was so doll-crazy.
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I cringed at that. I’m not “doll-cray”. I didn’t even want to go out with Frances…she asked, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. That’s all. I’m even surprised a girl would like me. I’m always quiet and I keep to myself. I’m not muscular, or, sporty, or any of that stuff. I’m not even that good-looking. I’m just a normal guy. I don’t get it. I just nodded, trying to get him off my back.
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- - I’m glad you’re finally with a doll…some people were getting strange…ideas…about you. Said my dad.
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Ah. There it is. My dad doesn’t care about my happiness, he’s only speaking to me to encourage me to do this because others around me thought I was strange. Of course. He only cares about his image, and not his own son.
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- - Well, you look spiffy. He said, punching my arm with an awkward stiffness.
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I tried to force out a smile, but his dialect was so awful, I wanted to cry.
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- - Well, have fun tonight! But not to much fun! He said.
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I understood what he was implying, and I internally rolled my eyes. Like I would ever do something like that. Especially with Frances Fisher. I checked the clock on the wall… 7:54 Pm. I should probably leave now, if I want to be a bit early. I remember someone saying that when you go out with a girl, you’re supposed to be 20 minutes early…but I’m not sure about that. I got out of the house and got in the car. Oh boy. Here we go… I thought of the possibilities of the next few hours; she really likes me, and I don’t think I can do anything about it, so we get married. That could be possible. Or, she hates me and never wants to see me again, which, surprisingly enough, isn’t the worst option. I didn’t notice the time fly by until I pulled up at the address Frances gave me. This is her house. I checked my watch; 7: 59 pm. I breathed in and out as I mentally prepared myself for this. As I walked up her porch and to her front door, I heard stirring in the house. I re-checked my watch; 8:00 pm. Sharp. I knocked on the door. Frances opened the door wearing a dark green dress that complemented her brown hair and same-coloured eyes perfectly. Her smile was wide, revealing her straight white teeth. Her cheeks were a slight shade of pink, I assumed due to makeup. I breathed in and out.
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- - James! She said, excitement in her tone.
- - Um…Hi. I said.
- - You’re…well, I was expecting you to come a bit earlier. She said.
- - But it’s 8:00 pm. I said, followed by a small awkward laugh.
- - Well, yes, but…You know what? Don’t mention it…it’s alright. She said.
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Oh. I guess the 20 minutes earlier rule was true. I felt sort of stupid.
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- - Come inside for a moment. She said.
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I went inside. There was a den in the entrance. It had two couches facing each other and a lose chair. Her father sat in a chair. Or, at least, I assumed it was her father. He looked up from his newspaper and noticed me. My presence made him quite angry.
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- - You must be James. He said, not in a happy tone, not getting up…just as if he was stating a fact.
- - Um…yes, hello Mr. Fisher.
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He narrowed his eyes and scoffed. Frances groaned.
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- - Come on, father, James is very nice! She said.
- Yeah? I don’t like him one bit.
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Did they forget that I was right there?
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- - He looks like the type of guy who just wants you for your money. He elaborated.
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I squinted. Now I’m just confused.
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- - Father, James doesn’t even know that I’m rich! She said.
- - Well, now he does, and I don’t like it!
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Maybe I should just leave. Then, this guy won’t be super angry, Frances would be out of trouble, and I wouldn’t have to go on this godforsaken date.
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- - James doesn’t like money! Said Frances, defensive.
- - Oh yeah? Then what does he like?
- - Um…I like to read…? I said, judging it was the right moment to intervene.
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He scoffed again and went back to his newspaper.
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- - If you touch her in any way other than holding her hand, it will be the last thing you ever do. He said, not taking his narrowed eyes off his newspaper.
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Frances lit up like a candle.
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- - Oh, thank you father! She exclaimed.
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Wait, that statement was good? Does he like me? Does reading automatically make me not a creep? Do I still have to go out with her? I’ve always disliked unanswered questions. But this one is really pissing me off. My future is on the line. If I do this tonight, we’ll surely b wed in the next couple of years. I do believe that Frances is a smart, beautiful, funny, and kind girl…I just do not love her. I cannot find it in my soul to love her. She grabbed my hand.
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- - Let’s go. She said.
- - A-Alright…?
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And with that, we left, through the narrowed eyes of her father. As we stood out on the porch, she looked at me, completely embarrassed.
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- - I’m so sorry, James…he doesn’t like the boys I go out with…but there is something special about you! He let me leave the house with you! She said, accomplished look on her face.
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I almost wished I weren’t special. I just nodded, trying to smile. I think she noticed the phoniness in my demeanor.
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- - What’s wrong? She asked.
- - Nothing…
- - I have a place to show you. She smiled, grabbing my hand.
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A few minutes later, we sat on a hill. It was large and held a beautiful view ahead. The sun was just barely out, and the lights of the city were shining. I bet it could blind me, but if it did, I wouldn’t care. It was very nice, but it would be even better if I wasn’t this nauseous. This is the sickest I’ve ever felt in my whole life. It isn’t even an exaggeration. I’m on a date with a girl who is head over heels for me, she thinks I like her, we might get married even though I don’t love her, and if I tell her that I don’t love her, everyone will be disappointed in me. My hands were shaking. She sat, knees to her chest, as I sat criss-cross. She sighed contently.
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- - James? She said.
- - Y-Yeah?
- - I’m really happy to be here with you…I’ve loved you for a long time. She continued.
- - Love is a strong word… I said, kind of joking, followed by an awkward laugh.
- - But I do love you. I love you a lot. Your smile, your eyes, your voice…everything about you…The other boys don’t interest me. They’re rough. They don’t like me for me. They like me because I’m pretty… I’m quite tired of being an object for boys to play around with until they find a new toy. But you actually like me, don’t you?. She said.
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I didn’t know how to tell her…I don’t love her. I do agree with what she said, though…It would be tiresome to be an object all the time. I just don’t love her. I made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She was staring at me, the look of love in her eyes. I immediately tensed up. God, please save me. She started to lean in, I assumed she was going in for a kiss. I panicked. My life flashed before my eyes. We go out again…soon, everyone is pressuring me to ask her to marry me. Eventually I do, and she says yes. We end up wed and I live a terrible life, with a bunch of children that I never wanted, therefore it is impossible for me to love. I come back home every day from my dead-end job, to see the wife I don’t love and the kids that seem not mine. What kind of life is that? I’d hate to be selfish…I want her to be happy. But I just don’t think I can do this. Time yourself, James. She’s quite close. I inhaled and turned my head away. She opened her eyes to see why I didn’t kiss her.
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- - James? Are you-
- - I’m sorry, Frances. I can’t do this. I said.
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She looked at me, confused and eyes wide.
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- - I…I don’t…
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I sighed.
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- - I don’t like you like that. I said.
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Her shoulders dropped and her expression saddened.
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- - I’m so sorry…
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Her bottom lip quivered as her eyes became red with tears.
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- - Wh-What did I do wrong? She asked, clearly trying to hold in a wave of tears.
- - No, nothing…you’re smart, funny, pretty, kind…I just don’t love you like that. I said.
- - Why? Tell me, please. She pleaded, crying.
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I looked at her in the eyes. Her look was pleading. Her face was reading that I please stay. I did owe her an explanation. I felt bad that all this time, I told her I’d go out with her, and I really waited until the last second to tell her I didn’t love her. I felt like a jerk. Maybe I was a jerk. The problem was, I really couldn’t go out with her any longer. I couldn’t bare it. I needed to answer. I cupped the side of her face, and with the most apologetic look I could muster, I finally spoke.
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- - I wish I knew. I said, eyes filling with tears, as well.
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She just nodded. I removed my hand from her face. As much as that was sad, I was quite relieved. Like a weight had just been lifted. I can finally exhale. I’m not in a cage. Oh man. How many people am I disappointing, now?
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I looked ahead with tired eyes, as the general talked again. I guess they weren’t really the simpler times…
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Upset, I stormed into my home and slammed the door. I couldn’t hear my parents. Either, they were out, or they just didn’t care. I crashed onto the couch with a sigh. I felt like shoving this awful shirt in the garbage. I turned on the television hoping to numb my brain. The movie “Little Women” played. Although, I felt my eyes following Laurie, rather than Meg or Amy.
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