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The Month of April
It’s a lovely spring morning. The sparse mist dampens my already wet hair. This walk of solitude to the bus pick up point marks the start of my day. It’s days like this that makes me miss her even more—my dear, Maria. I am reminded even more what a blessing it is to be able to confess one’s feelings to someone that holds their fancy. When someone holds your attention for as long as she’s held mine, and yet to be living so far away, it makes me feel as if I’m being cleft apart. On one hand, abandoning these feelings is preferred by the logical majority. But the heart is not so easily swayed. Until recently.
Elizabeth. Ah, Elizabeth…
Why must you make this cleavage worse? Her pretty face, along with her alluring personality attracts me, despite the many clear signs of our incompatibility. Just the other day, she was telling me about how she was worried about being pregnant, and yet she refuses to consume medicine from anyone else, simply because it is “unsanitary.” From even the greatest of horrors, irony is seldom absent. If she fears pregnancy, one could assume the doing was done in a manner that was… unsafe.
Perhaps, it could be said it is the highest form of (sanitization)-1.
She holds those with more money in higher regard, engages in unsavoury activities, is reckless, and becomes highly aggressive in regards to words and actions when she is under pressure, even pressure as trivial as a test.
“James, are you a virgin?” She asked the other day. Of course, I am. Aren’t we all? “Well, some of us are not… ”
“Well, it’s simple then, just get a sugar daddy.” Chimes in a highly politically opinionated girl. “You’re not a virgin so you’ve got nothing to lose right?”
“What?” I ask in dismay and disgust. They all stare at me as if I’m the crazy one. “We’re only 16! It’s gonna be an issue if we aren’t virgins at our age already, especially with crusty old dudes!” I say as I am still trying to merely fathom how our society has deteriorated to this point.
“Well, maybe you should just shut up! It’s our body, so it’s our choice! Do you think you can tell me what to do? Who are you to decide what I can and can’t do?” Well then. That’s the end of that bridge. Time to get the matches and the gasoline. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why they’re so worried that I’m trying to decide for them. Am I a lawmaker? A politician? Someone with any sway to the rules of society at all?
“You’ve never got nothing to lose you know, there’s dignity, morality, and a whole slew of other things you have to give up if you go down that path.” But she’s already gone into full feminist rage mode. There’s no stopping her now.
“Don’t worry about it, James,” Elizabeth says.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe it isn’t any of my business what happens to these human beings.
Even if it spells disaster for their futures.
All this considered, she's a terrible candidate. No idea why she caught my fancy in the first place.
"Just move on from her now, there’s no way that you’re ever going to see her again."
How can I, when the societal norm is this way, but the way she and I live matches up so well? Move on? And possibly lose someone worth more than gold to me? For what? For who? For these ladies who seem to have no moral limits?
I don’t think so.
If I may be so bold, I deserve better, and that’s why I’ve waited, and that’s why I’ll wait.