The Boy I Wish To Forget

His smile sends fleas crawling underneath my skin and through my veins. His wave hits me like a slap across the face. His, "How are you?" acts like a vacuum designed to drain me of my happiness. I've tried to tell him how uncomfortable his actions make me. I've tried to tell him how the sight of him spikes my anxiety. How I cringe and turn away if he walks near me. But in doing so I have only accomplished the feat of making his smile that much brighter, his question that much louder, and his wave that much more forceful. He thinks he's helping me, but really he's not. ...He won't stop.