So she sat there, head down studying the floor as I stood, inches from her, wondering to myself what I could do to make this situation more awkward, more out of place. I wanted her for so long, wanted her to want me so bad and now here I am, screwing it all up. Being myself has always got me into trouble, more so because I don’t know when to shut up and plus I have this argumentative side, that never really dies down, I can’t lose the fight, can’t let someone else win. So sitting there in silence, in the only lit room in the house, I wonder to myself. Who have I become to her? Why is she treating me like some damn virus, why am I so fucking worried about all of this. All these thoughts are running through my head. Wasn’t it like an hour ago when I asked her if everything was, “Okay”? Jesus I asked a girl if everything is “Okay”, fuck that’s like going up to Jeff Dahmer, salting yourself and saying, “Care for some fresh meat?” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
So I lean over the counter top and look at her, can’t bear to breathe those words again, so I take a sip from my water bottle, damn it, what got me here? What got me to this point where I am in a girl’s house at 1 AM and I’m not somehow called her boyfriend…damn it, that fucking label has ruined me so many times. It’s been 3 years since I met her, and up until a month ago, physical contact was never an option, at least not in my head.
Damn this stupidity, she doesn’t want me as anything more then a friend, yet here I am thinking of a way to slip in and become the long distance boyfriend, why would she even want that? She wouldn’t, I mean would I? Ok stupid question because yes I’d kill for the chance to be with her…but she doesn’t want to be with me does she? I can’t just ask her that, that’s worse then the whole “You okay?” thing. So what do I say, what comes to mind first…
“I guess I’ll get going”
You stupid son of a bitch…you are the WORST fucking kind of romantic EVER. Hopeless romanticism doesn’t mean you think romance is hopeless, it means you seize the moment; you take that quick shot that she may possibly want you and run with it. You get her a single rose, you grace her hand, smile at her…fuck, and you just ruined it
She’s still sitting there, damn it make a move, even a small one. So I go over and kiss the top of her head…ok that’s good
“See you later”
She looks up, “Yeah see you Sunday”
I kind of stand in the doorframe of the kitchen, waiting for her to get up, she finally does and we walk to the door, she flicks off the light and ok this is the chance, the last kiss you’ll probably ever get from her, better make it snappy…and I do
I kiss her and instead of thinking of her, I’m thinking of what she is thinking. What’s it like for her, is it euphoria or boredom or just casual…fuck I want to know goddamn it…I want to know if this is right.
I keep asking these questions because I’m second guessing myself, worrying and wondering if this is the last chance I have with her and if it is, how am I fairing, above average, below par, she doesn’t give any signals of me being anything more then a waste of time. It feels like one of those moments where I just want to give up and move on, but that’s the problem, I never have…how does one move on from something that never got rolling to begin with?
- Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental; this post was written November 10th, 2005 in efforts to write a book entitled, “The Misadventures of the Lovelorn Midwest Teen” -
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