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Feelings

Feelings are a powerful part of everyone's life; they define the actions of every human being. Feelings of love, hate, joy and sorrow determine whether one cries, sings, dances, or acts out violently. Unfortunately, in today's society, feelings such as these are often not accepted in teenage males, and are the cause of exile from many social cliques.

After expressing feelings such as these, I found my self in a similar dilemma. Everyday I've seen her walking down the halls, often late for class. She has been to my house on many occasions to see my sister. I've seen her in grocery stores, at red lights, and at football games, and eventually even in my dreams. I've known her for years, but I never imagined I could like her like this. I couldn't stop thinking about her; then one day I decided to tell her.

It was 4:00 in the morning and I couldn't sleep. So many thoughts were running through my head that I was having trouble processing them. I felt as lost and confused as a Democrat at a Republican convention. I couldn't have told you which way was up, how to spell my name or even what my name was. Luckily, amongst the chaos I was able to recall the advice of one of my good friends. "Just write!" he told me, and that is what I did. I started writing anything that came to my head. I wrote until my arm was about to fall off and then I wrote some more. I wrote for several hours until my head cleared. When I was done, I had a three-page letter that I was determined to give her.

After school the next day I worked up the nerve and gave away my heart and soul. The letter contained all my feelings of love, respect, and desire for her presence. "What is this?" she asked. I simply advised her to wait until she was alone when she had some time to read it, because I knew she would need time to fully comprehend the purpose of the letter. She wrote me the next morning explaining that she cried when she read the letter. She cried not only because it was sweet, but also because she knew that "we" couldn't be.

 I was crushed, but it was worth it. I was satisfied knowing that at least I had tried. At least I gave my feelings a chance. One would expect that this story ends here but that is not true. In fact, that is far from the truth.

 When word got out about what I had done, things began to change. People began to point at me and laugh calling me "pansy" or "lover boy." No longer was I an ordinary sport loving high school boy. I had become a boy with feeling. Even my friends would never think of me the same. They found new friends that were still in the "in" crowd, new friends that didn't show feeling.

I became an exile because I showed feeling; I showed emotion. I let feelings control my actions like a puppet on strings, and for this I was punished. It doesn't seem fair, but that is what happened. That is how I became an outcast of society, accompanied only by my inner self: my heart, my soul, my feelings, my every being

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