My Heart Folded, and Put in His Pocket

              The rain pouring on the church walls sounded like gunshots in a library. His face no longer seemed to have “character”, but just looked stupid and God seemed to not exist, despite the recent devotions and prayers said to him. I felt like I was diving into thick, cold, water, and the emotions in my head were smothering me.

         He didn’t like me. He liked someone else. He wouldn’t stop raving about some other girl who I should encourage to come to choir. You could see the light in his muddy, no longer chestnut brown eyes. I stood there nodding, and smiling, as the light disappeared from my swampy, no longer grass green eyes. We were no more that friends. That’s it, that’s all, as my friend Hilary would say.

         He was a waste. I let butterflies enter my stomach and fly around for him. I planned my day around when I would see him around school. I planned outfits and did my hair wondering what he would think. I put my fragile heart in his hands and watched it get folded and put in a back pocket. Not quite stomped on though, we are apparently friends. 

         If there’s hope for love somewhere, God, I’d really like to know. Sometime soon. Please. God, I am really tired of wearing my heart on my sleeve. But hiding it away isn’t much fun. God, you probably don’t want to hear this, but could you send my first kiss to me? I’m fourteen; I don’t have many high school years left. Please send me someone to love.