Dear You (On Going)

Chapter 2

April 25, 2011

     I sat there, enjoying your presence. “So you like cartoons?” You asked to start conversation. You always said you liked to break the absence of sound.

     “Yeah, it's a nostalgic reminder of childhood”, I said quietly looking out the window. I didn’t know what to do. I knew you had a girlfriend, so why did I always find myself at your place? It was wrong and I knew I’d regret it later. It’s not like we were really close friends or anything, we just always had this mutual connection, or whatever you call it.

     I think, I can't be too sure, you have always been the one who started almost every conversation with me and did all the flirting.

Hint: that I’m not completely innocent either. I’ve had my attributions.

     Though I’ve also just been the awkward infatuated fan-girl who’s stupid enough to waste her time with a boy like you.

     You were seated on a computer chair behind me, my body completely situated right in front of your spread out legs that I could have easily rested my head back and it’d be like a cliché romantic drama or something. You leaned forward and the distance between us was so close it felt uncanny, and somewhere between that uncanny charisma, you aimlessly managed to jab me in the eye. Huh. Tell me it was an accident. I dare you.

     “Son of bi...” I cut myself off. I’m not usually the swearing type and I didn’t want to come out as a “bad-ass” or try-hard. That just wasn’t me.

     “Oh, are you okay”, your voice rang loudly in my head, your hand almost touching my skin. I could feel your warmth pulsing on the surface of my flesh. I had the urge to get up and leave because my moral ethics screamed aggressively at me.

     “No, no, I’m fine” I said with child-like smile. I saw the corner of your mouth raise in agreement - as if you knew how uncomfortable I felt whenever you remotely demonstrated the slightest compassion for me.

     There was a short pause before I felt you toned arms wrap around my waist. I was planted there like a stalk, stiffly and without sound. I don’t know what was running through your mind, but I sure as hell wanted to know. I never understood your actions, they always seemed too playful and it made me feel exploited and uneasy.

     This is nice I remember thinking. My thoughts were always assorted, catapulted away, while opposite thoughts replaced my genuine ones. He’s lying, I know it, I won’t believe his mischievous words. I wasn’t myself - I must have been too wrapped in the moment - I wanted to stay. I needed to go.

     I slowly stood up as you studied my movement with your tender eyes. It wasn’t just my fathoming between right and wrong, it was also the thought of my ballistic mother yelling her head off at me when I got home. She’d kill me if she knew I was with a boy. So I got up to leave. You stopped me and asked

     “You’re going home now?” Your head somewhat tilted, your eyes inviting me to stay.

     “...I don’t want to...get in trouble”

     “– I’ll walk you home then”, you said, swiftly. I wanted you too, honestly I think I did. Why would I let such pleasantness slip away? But I knew it all too well, I don’t deserve you and you don’t deserve me. You have a girlfriend, and nothing is real. So, I left. I slammed your front door shut, evidently ignoring your 'kindness'. My emotions unpleasant and jumbled as usual. I ran down your drive way, ran far enough so that I could no longer hear the echoes of your call.

     I walked home. I knew I was late. I was scared to meet my mother.