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Unrequited love; I never knew the meaning of it until I met andconsequentially fell in love with Claire. I bumped into her in the hall atschool one day and for me it was love at first sight. Claire is the mostbeautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. She has long legs, a slimbody, and gorgeous curly auburn hair. Her eyes are the most deliciousmilk chocolate color, and I’ve had one hell of a sweet tooth ever since Ifirst saw those eyes. I have only ever heard of her generosity andsweet nature, but I can see her classy sense of style every day atschool. The love I give will never be returned. She will never evenknow of the love I have and hold for her. She will never know of theunintentional torture she puts me through day after day night afternight. My two friends know of this love for her I hold. They have toldme to ask her out that the worst that would happen is she would sayno, but I don’t know if I could take it. Being rejected by the love of your life is not something you take lightly. I’ve told my friends thisand all they do is tell me I’m being stupid. They act as if it’s just somesilly infatuation I have, but I know it’s love; There is no way it can’t belove. I know this is love, so shouldn’t she know this too? Shouldn’tshe be able to feel this love as well? Maybe, I should ask her out. Shewill say yes. I know she will because it’s love.I wake up the next morning and walk to school. The day goesbye as if I’m on autopilot. When the final bell rings I walk outside andI see her by herself waiting for her friends. I walk up to her and say, “Hey.”  “Um, hi.” She replies. “My name is Kevin” Oh god, is that the best I could come up with?After thinking about this moment all day that’s what I say to her? I tellher my name? “I’m Claire”  “Yeah. Hey, I was wondering if you would like to go out Friday night,like a date?” I nervously ask. “I’m sorry, I’m busy.”  “Oh well, we can go on a night that’s more convenient for you if youwant.” I suggest. “Sorry, I’m just not interested.” She replies and walks off when shesees one of her friends. All I can do is look after her as she walks
 
towards her friend. What can I say? I’m disappointed.The walk home was dismal to say the least. The recentoccurrence has rendered me thoughtless. I get to my front door andenter the house, walk up to my room, and slam the door shut in mysudden anger. “DAMN HER!” I yell in frustration. She was supposed to feel what Ifeel. She was supposed to know we were meant for each other. And,here I thought girls had all this intuition. Apparently, it’s every fuckinggirl but her! Why? I love her! Why can’t she see we’re meant to be?Why can’t she feel this love? I guess it’s nonexistent. A nonexistentlove, but I know it exists. She is the one who is oblivious to it all. It’sclear to me that she will never feel or even attempt to acknowledgeany love between us.As all of these different thoughts make their way through mymind I start picking up random objects in my room and hurl them atany one of my four walls. By the time I was done with myredecorating my room looked as if a tornado had come through. Mybed was turned upside down and my lamp was in pieces along with mybedside table. My desk was thrown to the ground along with mycomputer, bookshelf, and books. I had smashed my cd’s and my boombox and TV were also sent to the floor in the midst of my rage.I then proceeded to scream in frustration and anger until Icouldn’t scream any longer. I then threw myself in my closet andbegan to cry for all it was worth. Evidently, it wasn’t worth muchbecause crying didn’t help how I feel or change it in any way. WhileI’m lying here lost in my self-pity I see a gleam of silver out of thecorner of my eye. I reach over and pick it up to find out the silvergleam came from the machete my Dad gave me for my sixteenthbirthday a year ago. I feel the blade and discover just how sharp itreally is. As I do this I think of Claire and the constant torture I wasunder from the love I have for her. Now I will forever be tortured bythis unrequited love. This is not something that should be happening.She was suppose to say she loved me, but now I know she will neverlove me as I love her. I refuse to be tortured by a feeling.I take the machete in my left hand and scream whilst cutting off all the fingers on my right hand except for my thumb. I drop themachete on the ground and stand up facing the open wall in my closet.I cry while drawing a huge heart in my blood on the wall. I pick up themachete again and this time I aim for my throat spilling my blood,
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