História Poems About Love - Chapter two

          . I don't think I'll ever get used to the new routine, not going to school, and I'm not complaining, I actually like not seeing those people at school, they're all boring. It's just that I had a reason to go to school, it was a girl that I started to like, however, I'm the type that doesn't show when I'm in love or jealous. Her name is Amber, and she is a year younger than me, but in the same grade as me. Well, she was the most desired by all the boys at that school (and some girls would also like to try their luck), but they only wanted to be with her because of her body, I'm more about personality and character. I'm not sure, but I think I follow her on Instagram, she must follow me too, I could talk to her, but I'm a coward and I don't have the courage. I look for her Instagram and I find it. Like I said, I follow her and she follows me. I stop for a minute and think while I Like The Way You Kiss Me plays on my television. I decide to bring up the subject once and for all, it's a bit tiring to be alone, with nothing and stuck at home, and I'm sedentary, I don't have the strength to do physical exercise.

"Hey how's it going?"

I send it and wait for her to message me back. I really don't think she will answer me. While I'm distracted by the music, my phone vibrates with a notification. I open it and see that it is a message from Amber.

“Hey, I’m fine. And how are you?"

My heart races, I have no idea what to do now. I never got to that part, because I only sent messages to celebrities and didn't expect them to respond back.

“Well, I'm fine. I am glad that you are fine. What have you been doing in quarantine?”

“Nothing interesting, I was just talking to my boyfriend, since he can’t go out.”

I should have known she has a boyfriend. She's too cool to be single, unlike me, who's very unfriendly, boring, introverted, and all that bad stuff. 

     . I like being alone, perhaps, for the solitude, to remember myself. I don't even talk to anyone, I don't have any friends, and honestly, I don't care about that. Well, maybe I mind being alone a little, it would be nice to have someone by my side, who I could count on for everything, for anything, a person I could say “if I kill someone, I'll call her to help me hide the body” that type of person. But ultimately, humanity is a failure. I can only remember how fake it is. And these thoughts give me good ideas…

                 Flowers without hope…

Flowers come from shoots, trees come from seeds.

Your reflections are dreams, your sensations are goals.

An artist is born from art, a poet comes from letters.

I am nothing, I do not come from sprouts or seeds, from art or letters.

I am destined for nothing in the world.

I am made to wander before the fruits.

A real heart feels like this, a fruit of nothing.

I don't know if this poem is very good, but I tried. Now, I just need a good photo. I choose the image of a rose, I think it is very beautiful, in fact. Posted. The good thing about having an anonymous account is that no one will know that I wrote it, in case they think it's a bit shit. For example, I thought it was kind of shit, but if I liked it I'll post it. However, one of the things I don't post is when I have a crisis. Be it anxiety, panic, anger, anything. I had my first attack when I was eleven, when I started being bullied at school. I remember the scenes. I suffered, went home and collapsed right there. I never had friends I could count on to avoid these things. It was just me. And my diary. Until he was taken away from me by people at school. Welcome to my childhood. I just didn't have one. And now, everything repeats itself, but instead of being due to bullying, it is now due to broken hearts and unrequited love. Well, I have a fragile and foolish heart, I fall in love with anyone. Until I receive a message that shocks me, and from what I see, it's a secret admirer. Good…