The person who confessed their love for me is kissing the girl I hate while I sit in the back row of class. My heart that once kept with joy is no deflated with no rhythm. My teacher in Global History asks us to draw what is in our heart for the next five minutes. Pencils start writing and all there is is a blank paper with tears that roll down my cheek. We were given two partners to see what it's like to push your views on others. I was assigned to both of them. Are you serious right now?