You know what I hate above all things? You know what makes my life a steaming cesspool of sorrow and agony? Young love. The single most ridiculous and absolutely pointless thing in the history of the planet. Biased opinion, of course. I'm sick and tired of that stupid "we're in love" conversation I have with some girl or boy before their heart is smashed on the sharp, jagged rocks of indecisiveness and a bit of their parents gin. I hate kids who drink too, but that's another story. The notion that somehow two people who barely know each other could come together and randomly form some kind of "mystical love bond" is absolutely ridiculous and just... dumb.

Just plain dumb.

And as the lukewarm tears of bitter, angry romance, spoiled by the stupidity of a generation that has thrown love aside splash against the screen of your phone as you send the fatal message... you begin to wonder why you're alive, and why, after a while, your heart hurts so badly.

Once again, biased opinion.

I remember the summer, the jokes and fun and graffiti, smiling and laughing in a haze of haphazard youth. It was towards the end of the summer when I saw her, standing there, waiting for me to sweep her off her feet. I can still remember her dark silhouette standing out against the brick wall as she smiled and waved hello at me. Her eyes warm and welcoming, her lips ever so soft and pleasant. Her hair hung down lazily over her shoulder. I vaguely remember someone else saying something, but I didn't hear it.Words tumbled out of my mouth, I don't remember what they were, only that they made her laugh.

My group and I ran around the city, leaving a trail of laughter behind us. I remember staring at her, questioning my atheism, because I thought only some divine force could possibly create something so beautiful and fantastic. She was bitter and cynical, with eyes that shone and a dark smile. I was awestruck.

But, she had a boyfriend...

Never stopped me before.

I was so enmeshed in her that I failed to notice how tight her clothing was, and I now wonder if it was the sexual tension of youth, or if I was simply seduced by a teenage girl, tired with her miserably boring boyfriend.

We met a few more times, sparks flying each time we brushed against each other. She was into comics, hellraiser, and punk rock. Mixed with the summer heat and the copious amounts of soda, I was in love. For the first time, honest-to-goodness in love.

I remember the moment I told her. School had just begun, and I had recently gotten busted for the graffiti stunt I pulled over the summer. I sat alone in my room, with my phone in my lap. I typed something like: "I LIKE YOU, OKAY? I DON'T GIVE A *explicative* ABOUT OSCAR (her current boyfriend). I LIKE YOU." Her response was "I like you too <3"

And thus began the most wonderful and terrifying months of my life.

I said (or, texted) "love" after a few days. Too soon, way too soon. Stupid decision, I know. And she responded "I love you too <33". I was ecstatic.

It was just so... fun.

I remember our first kiss. First time for both of us. I steeled up my courage on a walk through the park. The sun was setting, painting the sky with deep reds and yellows. The skeletal arms of a dead tree stood out against the colorful background. Sitting down, I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer. First a kiss on the cheek, and then she turned her head, closed her eyes, and we kissed. We just... kissed.

I don't really know what happened next.

All I know was that it was wonderful... and then it started to end, as abruptly as it had started. We kissed to fill silences, said "I love you" to fill awkward pauses. It became pointless. She started ignoring me, making up excuses for why she couldn't go. It hurt, a lot. I started flirting with other girls, and went too far with one. I bawled, crying my eyes out, because I had hurt the one person who would never hurt me.

And then we just... stopped talking.

It was awful. It HAD to end, but I didn't know how.

I typed up a message, something about how I still loved her, and still cared, but we were too far apart. She didn't seem to care.

And then I found out.

She didn't like comics, she didn't care about anything I was talking to her about. She spread rumors behind my back, and flirted with guys.

But above all, she never loved me. Four months of lies.

So yeah, I guess I have a biased opinion on young love, and you can blame it on a pretty little thing, by the name of Cassandra.