All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Our Willow Tree Misses You
How enchantingly droll she looked standing so diligently in the dreary halls of this so-called place of education and learning. I usually couldn’t imagine her being anything but her habitual prominent and conspicuous self, but today something was different. She stood so innocuously, so altered. I didn’t know what was wrong with my friend at this moment, but I have never felt such immense fascination by her. We imparted equally desiring stares to each other for no more than a couple seconds before I decided to walk over to her.
“What’s wrong?” I felt myself choke out the lifeless words.
“Nothing, what’s wrong with you?” she almost convinced me with her charming expectation of the question.
“Obviously there is something wrong, I’m not stupid.” I said, annoyed and disdained that she thought she could try and get it passed me. There is no use in that. She has always been awful at hiding her feelings. She knows it, too.
“I said there’s nothing wrong, Liam. I’m fine.” She barked.
“Fine, whatever.” I gave up. But she and I are both very much aware of the fact that nothing was “fine”, and something was wrong, indeed.
We walked to lunch in silence. It’s not rare; sometimes we don’t need to speak. But I don’t know why I would expect this to be one of our normal thoughtful silent trolls because it wasn’t at all. I forced a cough as a desperate attempt to assuage the anomalous discomfort. Still nothing.
I have loved Bailey for as long as I can remember. But never have I felt so drawn in by her presence, suddenly I was drowning in my own cesspool of questions. It’s as if my mind was remonstrating against my heart. Being her best friend for a long time now, I’ve learned to accept the fact that I can’t be with her. The friend zone is a place I have spent nearly all of my time with Bailey. There was just that one night that we spent together venting about our damp lives and having one too many drinks. One thing led to another, and well, yeah. Nothing like that has happened since then, nor have we ever spoken of it. She is too good for me anyways. She walks down the hall and you’re practically choking on the rancor fuming off the other girls. Every step she takes is recorded in history books; she’s hardly a step below a Roman Goddess, an Egyptian Queen, even. To be with someone like me would only botch-up the entire balance of our little 500 student school. Not to mention, she has never felt the same way about me, to her I’ve never been more than her best friend.
“Listen,” she stopped me in my thoughts, “I'm sorry, Liam. I'm just having a really awful day.” She said sympathetically.
“It’s all right, don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us, right?” I tried to sound forgiving, but I really wanted to know what was wrong. I continued walking to the doors in which we escaped through every day to sit under the willow tree for lunch. Perhaps the only beautiful matter left within at least a mile of the school in all directions.
“No, it’s not okay” I heard her say, as I turn around and notice she’s not following behind but still standing where we originally stopped. I stopped and turned around and as I perceived that the water works were on their way, I started towards her once again, and took her into my arms.
“What is it? What’s the matter” I asked with much more concern than earlier, as I held her tightly to my chest. I just wanted to incur what it was that was making her like this.
I gasped for air as I jolted up from my bed, grasping my pillow. Another barely rested night and another replay of what I just want to forget. I’ve been having these nightmares for the past year that she has been gone. I just wish she had known about everything. I’ll never recover from the regret I feel every single day, wishing I told her everything. Wishing that she knew that I loved her, before they were my last words to her…