All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Hate Because of Love
"I hate her." I repeat. "I hate her. I hate her. I hate her."
"Hate is a strong word, Babe." He said as he wrapped his strong arms around me and squeezed. "I know." I said, "That's why I'm using it."
He held me tighter, then turned me around on his lap and kissed my forehead. He slowly and gently ran his fingers through my hair then down my face, as if he was petting me. I look down to avoid eye contact. But he gently pinches my chin with his thumb and the side for his finger and lifts. Forcing me to look into his deep brown eyes, and falling under his spell, once more. He whispers that he loves me, then moves in to kiss me. I lift my chin in response, but he stops fractions of a centimeter away from my parted lips.
Moments go by, but they feel like millenniums. I'm left only to feel his breath in my mouth. He whispers, "Don't hate her. I love her."
I pinch my eyes and clench my jaw. I take a deep breath in through my nose, turning my head to the left and down, trying to find the words to say.
He remains frozen, only the sound of our breath fill the cold room. I turn back with my chin pointed towards his and say "I know."
Then, there was silence.
I was still sitting on his lap, he held his hands on my waist, my hands on his.
Our eyes were closed, yet we could feel out surrounding better than we could see them. The attic door in front of me, behind him; and the boxes piled upon boxes surrounding us, keeping us hidden in case we were caught.
The only sound was his parents arguing. They only ever argued about 2 things. Money, and him. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.
I could literally feel his pain as he listened to their screams. His hands clenched as he squeezed his eyes when there was a shattering sound against the wall. I could feel the warmth of a tear, dripping from his face. It was then when I realized that they were streaming from my eyes as well.
I lifted my hands to his face. My palms sweaty and his face hot. I open my eyes and pressed my forehead against his. I used my thumb to wipe away his tear.
He opened his eyes and another tear fell from each eye. His chest tightened as he let out a single whimper.
I wrapped my arm around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder as we cry in each others arms.
I wasn't quite sure why I was crying. Was it his sadness? Or the fact that even after all this time, he still loved her? Or maybe I could feel my time with him slipping away.
We stop crying. Him first, and then I. He rubbed his hand up and down my back and then grabs my shoulders, pulling me out of his embrace.
Still sitting on his lap, he looks at me with wet eyes and wipes my tears away the same way I did for him. Still holding my face, he pulls me in for a kiss. This time however, out lips meet.
I don't remember how long it was before there was a knock at the door and his mom called in a kind tone, "Kyle! Daniella is here!"
He pulled out of the kiss in response, but I pulled him back in.
With one last powerful kiss, I let him go.
He called down, "I'll be there on a second!"
"Alright!" she gently says back. It was amazing how his mom could go from crazy b.tch, to loving mother instantaneously.
He got up. I stayed down and stared up at him. He reached down and pulled me to my feet.
I held onto his forearms and he held mine. We gazed into each others eyes, his seemed to turn black, but I had paid no attention.
"Kyyyle!" a high pitched blond squealed. At least, that's what I pictured her as. "You comin'?"
He turned and called, "I'll be there in a second babe! Ow!"
He looked down at his arms that I was holding. Without thinking, I had been digging my nails into his skin. Realizing what I was doing, I let go.
"Sorry!" I whispered *very* apologetically.
"What happened?" The annoying blond squeaked. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine!" he called down to her. He turned to me, "Its OK" he whispered.
He takes the back of my head and pulls it forward so he can kiss my forehead.
He turns around and heads for the stairs.
He stops and turns to ask, "You gonna come over again tomorrow?"
Looking down, I nod. He smiles. "Okay, see you then."
He continued down the stairs, but stops one last time and says, "Wait, you were never here, right?"
I could hear the impatient b.tch down stairs complaining.
"Right." I said annoyed.
"Then he continued down the stairs to greet the blond. I could hear her kiss him and say, "What took you so long?"
He said in reply, "Nothing, just had to take care of something."
"Glad to know I'm something that needs taking care of." I whispered to myself. "That's why I hate her, because you love her."
I waited a minuet for them to pull out of the driveway. Then I walked to the window and climbed out. Only to repeat the same process again tomorrow.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.
39 articles 0 photos 177 comments
Favorite Quote:
Theres so many that I can't pick sorry