doe

does it fucking end?

when does it end 😂😂😂

I've always been a tryhard at academics--that's whats been encoded in my DNA and my brainwaves with every single waking moment. I had chosen a classical book for a choice reading assignment that we had to do each term. At the beginning of each term, the teacher would have us choose one book that had to be approved by him to read for the term, with a report included. My choice was the book "Dream Psychology" by Sigmund Frued. PF had the same idea of being an overachiever the first semester and chose a classical book aswell, yet his was "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu. The way that the teacher finalized his grading was strange, but it was a way to bring us out of our shell and practice public speaking. He had each of us explain a blurb on our book, and if we liked it, and then, the teacher would have given us verbal feedback before releasing the numerical grade later. This teacher had given me props for a really good report, for a classical book, and had only been a couple weeks into the course. PF, on the other hand, got feedback that had told him that he needed to put more effort in, research his books a bit more, and also take assignments more seriously. This somehow sparked his one-sided beef with me throughout the entirety of high school. All because we both chose classical books, and I had received a better grade and feedback compared to he had. So, by this point in high school, I had already been openly out and proud about being a transgender man. The school had been nice enough to change my name on email correspondences and on my gmail account, but the only other problem was other academic paperwork such as rosters still had my legal name. PF decided in his lovely heart to seek out my deadname so he could use that name while using the wrong pronouns. Okay, fine whatever. He also took a liking to trying to one-up me with a majority of my academics throughout the last two years of high school, but the differences between him and I is...I took AP classes that benefited my intended career path, and a few other extras that brought me genuine interest; he took anything and everything to seem as if he were better than others. It didn't bother me through high school. What ended up bothering me in the long run was the fact that we ended up going to the same college. And through this, he's made my life more strange. PF ignored my presence for the majority of the first semester of college, well, mainly because I don't think he had fully realized it had been me. Until he met my ex boyfriend, who also somehow ended up at that same college, with me. Then came semester two, One time PF didn't do a double-take, no, that was far too basic for someone to have done. He did a quadruple take. I have a normal spot at the library that I always studied in, as I was a commuter and tended to have a massive gap in between most of my classes that I'd use to do work. One random day, he's sitting up there. One off, right? At least I thought so, because he had walked into one of the study rooms once it had been freed up, which these rooms had to be booked ahead of time. Then he was there, in that area, every tuesday/thursday when I would be in that exact area. Then came the spot in the science center. Normally, a girl would be sitting at this circle table during my multicultural psychology class, same girl every time. One day, PF was there which was a shocker. Then every other time around then, he'd be in that general area. This is where my delusions come in. I think he was lowkey stalking me a bit, and I have no idea why. But, nevertheless, we haven't spoken. Not since high school. On a final funny note, the one-sided academic beefs now become beef. I haven't declared it in the same sense he had, mine's more silent now. Guess whos been on deans list twice...and who hasn't even once? And we're both in brain science based majors which makes it even funnier.

so here’s to the boy with dark curly black hair. soothing but sharp brown eyes that stared into your soul. that tired but sharp eye that once loved me before.

i have no anger in my heart for how things ended up. i find it endearing in a way because it makes me think about the impact of small moments like that and how it had made me feel alive in moments i desperately needed it. some parts are embarassing and others not so much.

yet i’m still obsessed. i’m still stuck thinking of him. every waking moment.

my sol.

- l.m.

the glory and love.