Crushed

The infectious sound of Dido crooning “White Flag” only helped in sinking his spirits farther into the pits of despair and depression that had become so familiar to him. He was used to wallowing in his self pity but this time was different. This time he knew things would never be the same and as usual, praying and hoping would have the same effect as trying to hold a conversation with a bag of sand. This time there was no going back. This was it.
The afternoon sun pelted him on the back of the neck turning his already dark skin a shade lighter than a stub of charcoal. Normally he would’ve hurried to get out of the heat, but the fiery rays were nothing compared to the arrow that had just been pounded into his chest. Still he walked on with Dido creeping into his head through the headset connected to his I-pod, turning his world upside down.

He had woken up this morning and for the first time in 5 months he woke up with a smile on his face. The memory of last night was still fresh in his head and the overwhelming delight he was feeling seemed to leap from his chest and cast a beautiful silhouette on the poster of Ronaldinho mounted on the wall above his bed.
They had talked all evening about nothing in particular and throughout all of this he had just sat and stared at her. When he looked into her eyes it was as if nothing else mattered and he could be lost in them and nothing could touch him. They connected, and he was sure that she felt it too. Sometimes she would notice his incessant staring and with a puzzled look, not so carefully masked behind the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, (every time), she’d ask what he was thinking about.
“Just you,” he replied, and she would melt his heart with another award winning smile.
Later on in the evening they had watched her favorite movie together and he would roll his eyes in the dimly lit room whenever she mused over how hot the actor looked. It was a long time since they had spent any time together so when she fell asleep in his arms he held on to her like there was no tomorrow! Maybe he was making up for the last six months when he tried to avoid seeing her with her new friend. He was jealous and didn’t know how to hide this when he saw her and so he’d stay hidden in his room. Now he had her to himself and nothing else mattered. He made up for it all when he kissed her gently on the forehead and whispered “sweet dreams” into her ear, then went to sleep beside her! Perfect!!!
Indeed, it was perfect, but now it was over as dreams usually are when you wake up. But he didn’t mind. If he couldn’t be with her like he wanted, then nothing could stop him when they met at night in his dreams, his utopia.

Now he was walking home with his head hanging low, just a tad higher than his spirit that was now buried under the dusty earth beneath his oversized feet. He could tell that the sweat covering his now lanky frame was having an effect on his smell. He knew because the last four people he passed hurriedly put their hand to their face to muzzle a fake cough and he could hear them exhale heartily after they were behind him. Still he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered now.
He yanked the headphones from his ears as he took out his cell phone and went over that dreaded text conversation that he had with her that ended about 40 minutes ago. Maybe he had overlooked some important word or phrase or punctuation even, that had influenced wrongly his interpretation of the message. Maybe his mind was somewhere else when he was reading and so the true meaning of the message was entangled somewhere in the web of thought that must have occupied his mind at the time. He was tempted to stop the person who was coming in the opposite direction and get their opinion on the meaning of the message, but about 10 feet in front of him, she crossed over to the other side of the street.
His eyes welled up with tears as he froze on the message; the message that had him walking up and down the street for no reason in particular looking for God knows what.
He read it over and over and over again but the meaning remained the same. There was no other possible way that he could interpret the words:
“I’m in love with him!”