I see her these days more than I ever had before in our shared 3 years of campus life. She is Left, center, right, always a bit too close for my liking. And while I am aware that she is not my problem, I find myself suppressing the urge to wrap my hand around her braids, yank her head back and just PUNCH the living day lights out of her.
Why?
I am not exactly sure. It’s probably partly due to the knowledge that she is now having a taste of something that I have tasted. We both now know how a certain fruit tastes. A bit sweet but a little lacking in how long the sweetness stays. At least it was for me.
And it is not about the fruit per se. It is the knowing that even though I tried fast of this particular fruit and found it wanting, someone else has decided that it is the sweetest tasting fruit ever to be had.
Why do I care?
My people call it Bad Belle
