She sat there, looking at him. He was gorgeous. How could he
look at her, and feel nothing when she felt everything?

He looked
over at her. He wanted to love her like she loved him. He couldn’t do that…he
just didn’t love her…

She threw
the bottle; it shattered against the glass window. She pressed her hand against
the door and saw him. He loved that girl. Not her. Why couldn’t he love her?

He felt her
soft face next to his. He thought that this was where he wanted to stay. He
didn’t want to leave. He looked over and saw her face in the door. Her eyes
were teared. But…she loved him…

She
realized it was over. That girl was that what he would ever want…ever…

He ran down
the street in the freezing cold. His tears were frozen on his cheeks. He didn’t
love her…her had to explain…

She was
running. Running away. She couldn’t live with having to see him everyday and
know she would never have him. That he would never love her…

He was too
late. She had left. He cried in the snow by her house…never again would he see
her…never…and he was too late. He couldn’t explain…