Learning the
pains of love

I've always been the lovesick boy who just wanted someone to show affection for. And when I finally met that someone, I told him. But it didn't go very well. Standing in a grassy corner of the quad at Franklin High School with some friends, I turned to "Ricky" and finally said what had been on my mind for a month: "I love you." "What?" Ricky shouted, his eyes opening wide and gleaming with shock. "I said that I love you," I repeated, a little less coherently. A couple of moments passed as I stood there shaking, my eyes fixated on Ricky. He slouched over and stuck his finger in his mouth. "Ah, ga-a-ag, ah," he said, twisting and jumping like a top. I started to sweat. I held in my breath. I glanced at my other friends, who also just stood there, unable to move or speak. Ricky suddenly stopped his self-induced seizures, and with his hand on his side, a twist in his wrist, and a smile on his face he said, "Marvin, do you even know what love is?" "Of course I know what love is!" I yelled angrily. My fists were tightly clenched, but my eyes were starting to tear up. My throat was dry and my voice was stuttering. "Marvin, you can see me gag, right?" Ricky asked. "Really, come on, what did you expect?" "I didn't expect anything," I mumbled, lowering my head and staring at the concrete. "You are exactly like the other gay guys I've met," Ricky continued. "You're such a drama queen." I had my hands over my forehead, and I thought, This can't be happening--this can't be the Ricky that I fell in love with, can it? He continued to laugh. I was about to cry, so I turned around and quickly walked toward my next class. That night I promised myself never to say those words ever again. But I did, and I'm now happily in a relationship with someone else.