The boy was 13 years old and desperate, as most middle school children are, for some kind of "romantic" connection. Unfortunately, he wasn't exactly what people would call attractive. He was short, plump, with thin greasy hair, and an unusually bad case of acne. This, of course led to most of the feelings people associated with him being related either to disgust or to repulsion. He was lonely, and in that loneliness, he became swallowed up in his own thoughts, and they ranged from dark to fantastical in a way only the severely obsessive could.
One night, as he was looking out his window vacantly he saw a girl of the most radiant beauty. In his eyes she seemed to glow. Her bright red hair glistened under the light of street lamps, and grew in such perfect, straight length down to the small of her back. She was thin, but not gangly and her walk was like that of a gazelle. She was obviously a few years older than he, but he disregarded this fact in his sudden infatuation. He had fallen for her completely, and he didn't even know her name.
All night he dreamt of impossibilities, as the hopelessly pathetic tend to. The next morning he woke with a spring in his step, and a brightness in his heart. The next time he saw the girl, he would confess his love in the most romantic way he could think of; a song. Unfortunately, he was utterly tone-deaf, and though his voice sounded like a canary's to his ears, to the rest of the world it sounded like a mewling cat poorly playing Rebecca Black's Friday on an old violin. He practiced his poorly written song holding the most obvious of cliches, the worst of rhymes (when it did rhyme) and a tune that could've been found in a kindergarten classes garbage bin all day.
That night he waited by his front door for her to pass by again. She didn't. He waited for hours until his parents forced him to come inside. He wasn't deterred from his goal however. He would wait the next night, and the next, and the next, subjecting his poor family and neighbors to his awful singing of a terrible song each day that preceded until one night she walked by again. In his excitement, the boy failed to even introduce himself. He only ran up onto the side of the street and began belting out his horrid tune, which I could not, in good conscience, record on this page even the lyrics of. The poor girl was completely shocked out of her thoughts and only stared for what seemed to the boy an eternity. Then her laughter erupted and it was like a dagger to the boys heart. She just laughed and kept walking, and he knew she would never feel the same. He didn't even know her name.
He cried himself into oblivion for the next week, pathetically sobbing to any who would listen, of which there grew fewer and fewer with each passing day, about how he loved her, and would never love anyone else. After that week of childish folly, he came to a realization. He was not anywhere close to the league of such a girl. He never would be. With this knowledge came the burden that would weigh him down for the rest of his life, anyone in his league would not be a girl to be proud of, a girl he could never love. So he resigned himself to a life of eternal loneliness, but was better off for it. He never had his heart broken again, because he had rid himself of it forever.
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