The Search for Freedom

I knew my parents were already doubting something was happening to me, especially that there were many times they saw evidence of that. My mother might have already noticed many weird things. I knew that even though she would not ask me, she could sense that as my mother.

How many innocent people do I need to kill? How many people would be bereaved because of me? How many sins do I need to commit before I can be free? I was only lucky that no one was searching for me or who witnessed those crimes. Everyday, I walked the streets back and forth. And though I was sometimes lazy, I could endure anything for my dreams. Every time I saw Teacher Jayne, my tiredness would disappear. Her smile gave me happiness, and her soft voice gave me strength. That might sound un-contemplated, but I wanted to marry her.

I sat on the bench under the shade of a huge tree that seemed older than the campus. I didn't know why our principal would not let anyone cut that tree; perhaps a dryad who lived inside. Or perhaps I had totally lost my mind, and I wasn't willing to search for it.

Teacher Jayne was going towards me. She was wearing a blue shirt, striped pants, sandals, and a satchel of papers and books. I had fallen in love with the way she slowly walked towards me, and my heart was beating so loudly when she sat down by my side. I was disturbed, and I wanted to stand, to jump, to shout, but I did nothing but hush myself.

She looked at my face and greeted me. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ward. What are you doing here?" She placed her satchel on the bench.

I didn't know what to reply. I was bewildered because it was the first time she talked to me like that. Before, she would only pass by in front of me and continue walking towards the classroom without even looking at me. It wasn't my business after all, especially since she was a teacher and I was her student.NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

"I'm just sitting here, waiting for the throng of students to disappear." I smiled while trying to avoid making eye-to-eye contact with her.

"You look happy; I can see it in your face. Would you like to tell me something?" A cloud slowly lowered darkly into her eyes.

"I'm smiling, but it doesn't mean that if someone smiles, he's happy."

"You have a point, and good, because you're smiling even though you're not happy, or are you?" Teacher Jayne asked. "I'd noticed that you're always flabbergasted these days. Why?"

"We can smile in whatever situation. I've been facing a little problem, and like in mathematics, there's no problem without a solution," I replied.

"You're so smart, but it's also okay not to be okay if we're facing problems and it seems that we cannot find any hope." She seemed to be carrying the whole world with the way she talked and blinked her eyes.

I was confused about her words, so I asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Teacher Jayne was my illegal drug. I was already addicted to her, so when she was sad, I also became sad. If she seemed to carry the whole world, I also did. I wanted to take her burden and make her happy every day, every night, every hour, every minute, and every second.

But at that time, her sadness gave me mixed feelings that I never expected to have. I was happy for myself and sad for my teacher when she told me that her boyfriend had left her behind for an unknown reason.

"How could he do that to you, Miss Jayne? You looked perfect, your appearance is perfect, and you're also kind to everyone. Your boyfriend was so blind that he could not see that," I told her.

I also never expected that he would leave me so easily without a clear reason. What I only knew was that he loved me. "He was a respectful and kind man, and that was the reason I loved him," she replied.

A kind and respectful man? How could she say that if he just left her behind? He could not be called kind and respectful because he did not even show respect and kindness to her. He just left without even saying a farewell. He did not deserve someone like my teacher.

"Maybe there was an important thing he needed to do, which is why he hurriedly left me. And you must not think that people love you because of your appearance; you're still young and inexperienced," Teacher Jayne defended. "Maybe." I sensed that a man like him had just made my teacher a fool. I believed he would not come back anymore. But my teacher seemed confident about her words, and even the glum on her face had disappeared. "Thank you for spending some time with me, but I need to go now." She took her satchel of books and papers, then stood up. "See you in our class tomorrow." Teacher Jayne walked away. I also stood up and went home. Perhaps she wasn't the right person for me. Because even from whatever angle I would look at her, she was different. Our ages, preferences, beliefs, and many other things. Perhaps I was still too young to have a girlfriend, and perhaps what I felt for her wasn't love, but infatuation. Teacher Jayne told me that infatuation and love were different.

Infatuation was an instant desire; one set of glands calling out to another, while love was a friendship that had caught fire. It takes root and grows one day at a time. Infatuation was marked by a feeling of insecurity. Someone was excited and eager but not genuinely happy. There were nagging doubts, unanswered questions, little bits and pieces about her, and I would just as soon not examine them too closely because it might spoil my dream.

Love was quiet, understanding, and the mature acceptance of imperfection. It gave someone strength and grew beyond that person to bolster his beloved. Someone was warmed by the presence of their beloved even when they were away. Miles could not separate them. He wanted her to be near, but near or far, he knew that she was there and he could wait.

Infatuation said that they must get married right away. showing that he could not risk losing someone. Whereas love said that they must be patient. They should not panic, but rather plan their future with confidence.

Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement. If someone was honest, he could admit it was difficult to be in one another's company unless he was sure it would end in intimacy. Love was the maturation of friendship, telling him that they must be friends before they can be lovers.

Infatuation lacked confidence. When someone was away, he wondered if she was cheating. Sometimes he would check. Love means trust. He was calm, secure, and unthreatened. His beloved felt the same way too, and that made them even more trustworthy.

Infatuation might lead him to do things he would regret later, but love never would. Love was a mood booster. It made him look up. It made him think. It made him a better person.