Megan and you have been best friends

Megan keeps growing further and further away from you — hanging out with people in her other classes, ignoring you in hallways, even typing in lowercase. And Megan never types in lowercase. She’s the most energetic girl you know when she’s with you. Becoming friends with her meant that every moment in your life that may have felt dull felt illuminated, illuminated with awkward humour and uncontrollable laughter. You were so grateful for her friendship. So for her to up and throw it away? It kind of pissed you off.

But you didn’t know. You didn’t know the conflict constantly lurking in her chest. The way her heart thumped at the sight of you, and the thought of you made her gradually nauseous.

Nauseous. A good kind of nauseous. The best kind if anything, but she was tired of it. Tired of wanting you. She was so far gone.

She was lovesick

Your voice, your hair, your eyes, your body, your mannerisms, your laugh, your personality, your warmth, everything you did had her entranced. And because it hurt to need you, she started to walk away. Because not having you at all felt better than having some of you.

So, after three weeks of distance, you knock on her door. Home alone, Megan can’t think of who would want to see her at this time. She reluctantly gets up off the couch and opens the door, only to be met with your harsh, breathtaking gaze.

“Oh…” Is all she manages to utter in your tense — but beautiful — presence