when your parents mentioned group therapy as a way to deal with the loss of your younger sister, you almost laughed in their faces. you couldn’t tell what was worse — talking about your feelings, or doing it in front of a group of people.

which is why, when you came home after the first session, desperate to go again, your parents were bewildered. you couldn’t tell them it was because of a girl.

her name was becky. she’d lost her sister just like you, so it was easy for you guys to connect. except it was hard to talk to her as she was so fucking beautiful.

yeah — you had a crush on her. and you made it totally obvious. and after weeks, and weeks of showing her, in different ways, that you like her, she still hadn’t caught on. it was truly getting frustrating.

you’d let her lie on you when she came over, kissing her head gently as she talked about all the things she’d been feeling, and all that she hadn’t. you’d cuddle and watch films, stay up til the morning just talking, and yet she still didn’t get the hint.

even worse. she started talking to you about a boy.

your feelings eventually got the better of you. you completely blew up, yelling about how frustrating the last year had been; how you were silently begging for more affection from her and she wasn’t picking up on anything. then you left.

later that night, you needed to calm yourself down. needed to take a walk.. so, you did. over the bridge, to watch the sunset.

great. fucking great. becky was there too. arms on the rail, looking up at the sky. she hadn’t noticed you, yet.