I haven't really paid much attention to the [insert creative insult here] recently. I avoid making eye contact at all costs and nowadays I pretty much refuse to acknowledge his existence. In English class we were studying philosophy, and there was the whole tree-falling-in-a-forest analogy. Apparently some philosopher said if something is not percieved by us, it does not exist. It sure seemed like a ridiculous idea, but it worked where the mop was concerned. If I blocked him out of my bubble of perception, he would no longer exist to me.
Today I sat in History and started talking to a couple of my friends when he randomly joined the conversation. We were just talking about sports, nothing out of the ordinary.
But then, for the first time in months, I actually looked at him. I mean, technically I could see him before but I never actually looked. I then realized I had forgotten what he looks like. As I looked, my insides burned with bitterness and hatred. The air felt thick between us. There was a wall. A wall so dense and so strong nothing could peirce through the air in that moment. I don't even remember what he said.
I quickly turned away. The air still felt heavy and my head was swarmed with words of displeasure towards him. The rest of the day I was fine, but all of these words I just had to get out. So here I am. And here are my words.
The Case of the Stolen Bracelet
5 weeks ago