Warning: Deep and profound story time!

It felt awkward. She stood there in the classroom, packing her bags, glancing up occasionally to see if he was coming. The day hadn’t been good; she was tired, her hands were cold; she had a lot of work to do…what she needed was a hug. From him. She looked up again, and there he was. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling tiredly, just for a second, fading away when she searched his face. He stood a few feet away, his smile cramped and forced. Questions hit her brain in a wave, but she only asked hopefully, “…So…whose turn is it to call tonight?”
He shrugged. “Whatever works out.”
She stood silently for a moment, looking down to hide her disappointment. He obviously didn’t want to talk to her, and she was tired of always being the one calling him. She resolved right then and there that that night, she would not pick up the phone and dial his number. She would not be the one to call. Not this time. Or maybe not anymore at all. He said a hurried goodbye and headed to the bus line. She stayed there in the classroom for a few more minutes, waiting until she was sure the bus kids were gone, waiting until it was safe for her to leave. She sighed, feeling a heavy weight somewhere in her soul. How do boys make girls hurt so much, she didn’t know or understand. Caring for someone isn’t that hard, is it? Why am I the only one who cares?
That night, she gave in, abandoning her confident plan. She dialed his number, feeling a strange, sickly feeling in her stomach. Something felt wrong. The phone rang, and he picked it up. She knew immediately by his voice he didn’t want to talk. What’s wrong with me? Am I too pathetic, too boring, not pretty enough? She tried to start a conversation anyway, but cautiously.
“So…what are you doing? Are you busy?”
He sounded bored. “I’m watching TV.”
“Oh…so do you want to talk? Or…not…?”
“I don’t really care.” His voice was hollow and unfeeling, and it felt like a slap in the face. She grimaced, biting her lip, and answered slowly, wishing she knew what to say.
“Well…okay then. See you tomorrow.” He said goodbye, and the click was deafening. She crumbled. So much for my feelings. So much for a mutual relationship. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t want to talk to me at all. Why didn’t I get angry? Why didn’t I let him know that what he said was rude and that it hurt my feelings? Why did I just let him go without standing up for myself? Watching TV?!
He doesn’t care. You’re worthless.

It’s been a few years, yes. Her old friends ask why she never calls them. She smiles lightly and says she doesn’t call anyone. Because she doesn’t. And when she does, if it’s not for homework, she’s scared to death every time that her history will repeat itself, and she’ll be told once again that her feelings aren’t mutual, that they don’t care, that she’s worthless.

Wow! That was deep and profound! A real tearjerker. I had fun writing that. I should do that more often.
Today I was super tired, so I skipped practice, and since my purpose was to go to bed early, I probably should do that. So off I go, at 9:11pm. Nighty night, pumpkins.