If I'm being honest here, my thoughts are different from what other people usually think. I'm not just saying that to suddenly desire my own film about some girl with the mind of a robot. I truly mean it. When I think of something, I don't stay beyond my four walls of thought, I take it to the next level. I look out into the world and wonder about the chaos and minds of others and the effect it can have on me and everyone else. It's like I'm a machine running on questions that no one really seems to wonder about, no one except for me. Goes to show what kinda life I'm living.

My brain isn't complicated on its own, but that's not the problem. The real issue is I make it complicated. My whole body's eager for some challenge or issue to tackle, so it creates its own Rubik's Cube with no guide for solving it. My mind is a maze of wonders that devours everything simple and produces this metamorphosis of complex equations, which sucks, considering I'm horrible at math!

On the topic of complexity and confusion, here's a question my mind tends to explore on more than ten occasions: why do humans find something forbidden attractive? What's the point when we know deep down in our yucky, pulsating brains that it's not going to work out?

In these past two months, I've come up with some answers; The thrill of obtaining something not easy; the challenge; the adventure that kills boredom; and even the attention gained from doing something disobedient. But if you're like me, you're just super unlucky and just so happen to want the things you're not allowed to have.

I mean think of Romeo and Juliet, a classic example of how you should never believe what your friends tell you, and quite possibly where the first idea of the telephone came from

Because seriously Benvolio, you couldn't have waited a little longer before tattling to Romeo that Juliet was supposedly dead?

But that's not the real tragic part, is it? Nope, it's the one millisecond Romeo had left to wait before Juliet woke up. It's that one touch of poison being consumed just as Juliet awakens to find her beloved, depressed Romeo drowning himself in death right in front of her. Then to top it all off with a nice little cherry, she stabs herself in the name of love and, "Thus, with a kiss, I die!"

But life isn't so climatic. Life's just a tragedy without all the dramatic and exaggerated tears. Life moves on, and the people around the tragedy have the choice to either be miserable or accept it. Again, my mind doesn't really work that way. I've not yet been totally depressed nor accepted anything that has happened to me over the course of eight weeks, and I don't plan on changing that any time soon. Clearly, I'm a complicated nutcase!

"Hey, Flower, hand me the remote, will ya?" Paxson's eyes stay glued on his cellular device, and I almost spit a snappy remark at him and the stupid nickname he continues to call me.

Flowers are pretty, and I know he doesn't think I'm pretty. So why does he keep calling me that? To mock me?

He's precisely three inches away from me, and every cell in my body knows it. Why can't they just ignore the fact that he's close to touching me, but isn't actually going to? My body and mind are always at war when he's near.

I bite my tongue and lean down to where the remote sits next to my feet. "There," I lash out under my breath and toss the remote in his lap. Paxson's grin reaches his eyes. I hate those beautiful, hazel eyes, God why is it always the eyes?

Just as Paxson's mouth opens to make a remark, his little sister Caddy crawls to him from her toy collection near the TV.

"Paxy, will you still play with me today?" Caddy just so happens to be everyone's weak spot, and it makes me absolutely sick. So she looks like a puppy, speaks bad grammar, and wears tiny clothes made for a baby doll? Does that mean I need to treat her like an angel?

"Aw, sweetie-pie, I'm sorry, I have plans later today with Priscilla." Paxson ruffles his sister's curly locks. She giggles.

Apparently, I didn't get the "How to Treat Children" starter pack in my DNA. What a shame.

"But Paxy you have to make it up to me." Caddy elongates "me" in her I-wanna-get-my-way tone. I wildly stare at Spongebob on the screen to keep my mind off roasting the tiny child.

"I'll tell you what, how about later today after dinner I slice you a piece of cake? Would that make it up to you?" Paxson winks at Caddy, and a fraction of my heart shatters at the sight of his loveliness, then the rest of my heart kicks that feeling out the door.

Wow, for a second there I almost started to care!

Caddy bounces up and down, her blonde curls bobbing on her shoulders. "Yay! Cake with Paxy!" Caddy hops in his arms and he tickles her to death.

That girl's laughter will haunt me in my dreams, I know it.

Paxson chuckles and sets her back on the ground. "Okay princess, go play with your little toys."

Just as commanded, Caddy goes about with her irrelevant little adventures. Paxson sighs, as if dealing with his sister takes enormous balls of energy, though I can't blame him. Children are so much to handle it's exhausting.

"You bailed on your sister to go out with your girlfriend?" I snort, and tightly hug the pillow next to me, which helps keep me from shaking.

Heat stretches out from Paxson's eyes, and his gaze slices me in half. "Prim, she's not my girlfriend, I've told you that already." His hands fluff the top of his golden blonde hair, and I bring my legs to my chest.

"Yeah? Well, when are you going to fill Priscilla in on that status, I don't think she got the breaking news." In aggravation and embarrassment, I throw the pillow down and rush to the stairs.

"Prim, when are you going to stop acting like a child?" Paxon's tone seeps into my skin like salt in my already burning wound.

I spin around to look him dead in the eyes. He stands a few feet away from me, his back to the TV as the familiar theme song of Spongebob rings.

I reach out to the railing and stumble backward. "I'll stop acting when you stop pretending like everything's fine!"

"Everything has to be fine, Flower. I'm doing my best to make this as painless as possible," Paxson pleads. His eyes are coated in gold and luxurious promise. I'm the first one to know that those promises all end up destroyed.

I will not break. I will not break. I will not break.

"This whole thing is only painful for me, and you know it. Don't try and pity me any more than you already do," My heel grazes the next level of stairs and Paxson groans.

"There you go again, changing up every scenario to fit your perfect pity party in your head. Have you ever thought "Gee, maybe he actually cares about me?" or anything along the lines of positivity?"

My head fries with rage. "Oh yeah, because my ex-boyfriend who left me unexpectedly for a whole year is going to give a shit about me. That makes perfect sense! And I see the way your mom looks at me, I bet she wishes I wasn't here."

Paxson brings his finger to his lips. "Will you shut the hell up?" He barks in a whisper. He glances at his still-occupied sister talking to her toys about some rainbow roller coaster.

Paxson breathes deeply before backing away from me and speaking again, his tone more tired than upset. "You don't understand, do you? You just have this mindset that everyone around you is okay but yourself. You're completely inconsiderate."

"Is that what you really think of me?" I sneer, sensing my temperature rising.

"Yeah, I do," Paxson clenches his polyester jean pocket. His eyes start to squint which is equally annoying and cute, but now's not the time to daze on it.

"What else am I then?" I eagerly egg him on, and his body leans on the wall for support.

"You're also especially stubborn and blunt," he says.

"Oh really?"

"And selfish and blind, and not to mention childish!" His voice jumps two notches up.

"Is that all?" I set fuel to the fire, and he glares at me with the utmost disgust.

"Your wit is extremely unnecessary and insensible." Paxson pauses to recall more nasty things about me.

"But you have a killer sense of humor." Paxson's transitional tone flutters my stomach and spins my head in all sorts of directions.

"And when you truly smile, all the pain vanishes from your face for a brief moment. It's beautiful to watch. You're so stubborn but determined. I don't think I've ever seen you give up on anything," he looks down bashfully.

"You're wonderful," he finishes, voice barely audible.

I sink down on the carpet step and rest my chin on my knees. We don't share words for a moment, both far too concentrated on the depths of our reflection.

"Why can't things go back to the way they were?" My question lingers in the air for a moment.

"Because I'm not the same guy I was a year ago."

"Well, I'm not the same girl from a year ago either. Your excuse is invalid," I say. I know what I want, and unlike him, I'm willing to fight for it. He's right about one thing: I don't give up easily.

"I know what's right from wrong, and what we had was all kinds of wrong. I went too far and I'm really sorry. I hurt you in more ways than one and with everything that happened to your family I honestly can't imagine the pain you're going through. But what's done is done. It has to be. " He's trying so desperately to convince me that what I feel is unacceptable, but how could such a feeling of care and affection be considered wrong?

"If it was so bad, why did you take me into your custody after all this time?"

"Because being with you in any way is better than nothing. And I want to help you still, just as a friend."

"That's where you're wrong," I make certain that what I say next trumps his words, because once upon a time he told me this exactly. it gave me all kinds of faith back then, and I hope it will come back to give us both the courage we need now. "Being with you is a blessing."

I've admitted to myself with this private confession alone, that I'd rather become vaccinated with the undeniable pain of his presence than push him away and never be immune. I can't lose sight of him again. He's the only medicine I have left.

"A blessing? More like an unforeseen hurricane." Paxson's attention is stuck on the wall, unaware that his words are bullets to my heart. A promise that was never meant to be kept. I wish I knew that back then.

I stand, completely exasperated, and stride towards him.

"Why would you ever say that? Is that really what I am to you? An inconvenient disaster?" I nail him in the gut, and he gets a hold of my shoulders, ignoring my jabs.

"Listen to me, I don't pity you, and I'm not letting you live with my family merely out of charity. I want you here because you deserve a place to stay and people to comfort you in your time of need."

I slap his hands away from me and blitz up the stairs. He's made me suffer long enough for one afternoon.

"Prim, you can't run away from your problems like a little kid. You can't always leave when times get tough." Paxson calls to me, and I sneer at him.

"Says the person who left me for that exact reason. Next time, preach to someone that you haven't thoroughly dissected inside and out." I climb up the stairs to leave him hanging and once I get to my room, I slam the door shut.

It's not until after I dive into my bed that I realize only children slam their doors after not getting what they want.

Wow, I really am a child.

"Paxson, you don't need to get me something for my birthday." I latch onto his arm and cuddle him on his relaxing couch like I do every normal Sunday afternoon. Paxson's warm and inviting like a soft blanket or comforting dog, and he never seems to want to let me go. Not that I'm complaining!

"Are you kidding? My girl's finally turning sixteen! Of course, I want to give you something for your big day. Like flowers, chocolates, cookies-"

"Okay, okay. You know I don't want all of that stuff." I cover his mouth with my hand, and he slowly uncovers it, intertwining our hands.

"Yeah I know, crazy girl. Luckily, I happen to know what you do want, and I don't even need to buy it."

"Yeah? And what might that be?" I can't contain delight seeping out of my voice.

"My hugs, of course!" Paxson's arms wrap around me, and in an unsuccessful attempt to break free of his hold, I end up on his lap. We both stop moving and I keep my eyes focused on his. They take up every happy memory in my mind and I bathe in the beauty of the connection that we naturally share.

I clear my throat before filling the air again with my voice. "Is this weird for you?" Paxson's eyes look skeptical but his smile is tender and light.

"Pax, you're about to be twenty and your girlfriend's just turning sixteen. Isn't that odd?" He invites his hands into my hair.

"I guess it can seem that way, but think of it differently. I think of it as fate bringing us together at an early age. It only seems weird because society says it is." Paxson's matter-of-fact tone is hard to argue with, but the fear creeping into my skin continues.

"But isn't this, you know, illegal? Will you get in trouble?" I whisper worriedly, and he strokes my cheek with his graceful hands.

"Have I ever tried to kiss you?"

"No."

"Have I ever tried to touch you inappropriately or harass you?"

"Definitely not!" I sharply say.

"Is this relationship based on comfort, and support?" Paxson taps my nose.

"Well, yeah."

"Is that illegal?" He acts baffled at his own question and scratches his head jokingly in thought. I giggle and shake my head.

"Then I don't see what the big deal is? I will respect you and continue to do so no matter what age you are. I only want what you want."

I slide back to my spot on the couch and lean on his arm again. "You know my parents still think I'm dating Fabien."

"That does make the most sense, he's only a year older than you. Of course, my parents aren't quite aware of our relationship either, but in time I know they'll be comfortable with it." In time was the keyword. More like in years, but I didn't want to linger on it. This was our happy moment and I didn't want to ruin that.

Paxson smiles to himself, then glances at me. "What if your parents think you're with six-year-old Ethan?" Paxson gags and I burst into a fit of laughter, and Paxson joins in.

"God, your laugh is so contagious!" Paxson wheezes and it takes a moment for us to calm our snickering. When he finally gets his bearings together, Paxson stares me straight in the eye and shows me that stellar, genuine smile that makes every girl swoon. But I know this smile is just for me.

"No matter what relationship status we're in, being with you is a blessing. Like calm rain on a Saturday morning. It's not perfect, but it's still beautiful in every way. I'm grateful for it all."

Who knew that a year later, that same peaceful rain shower would turn into a spiraling hurricane? I guess Paxson knew, because he did what every potential victim of a hurricane does, he packed up and left. But the thing about hurricanes is they're very unpredictable, and their range has no limits. A hurricane whips and drains out everything it has consumed inside until finally, it dissipates entirely.

Well, Paxson, your wish is soon to come true, because this hurricane has nothing left. This monstrous storm is empty. This whirlwind of hell is about to give up, and it's all thanks to you.

As always thanks again for reading. If you see any errors let me know! :)