We made our way home past 2 am. And we talked. And it seemed like the most we had ever talked before.
We had always been talking.
She was good at talking to me. About new outfits. About her best friend. About candles.
But this time we finally exchanged words that were something like the idea of what we were as people.
I doubt that at 2 am that night with the alcohol we've been drinking, running through our veins, I doubt that we verbally understood each other much at all.
It felt like an exchange of essences. Whenever our lips met. And they met. A lot.
There's a part of what she said that always stuck by me until this day. I don't know if I still know the whole thing correctly, but I can recreate something that's something of it. Just like most of our memories most of the time are just..., something that's something of it.
"This doesn't make any sense at all, okay? But please just listen. There's always something going on in your mind, going on, that I really, really can't..., what's a word? Comprehend? Comprehend. That I really can't comprehend. Ever since we were like..., five years old? I just don't understand it. I don't know if anyone can truly understand you. Because to be you? There's no one like you. You're complicated. You're stubborn. You're kind. You're gentle. You're abrupt and rough. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I want to think of most of the time. Maybe it's partly my fault you're so different to me. That we're so different to each other."
Sometimes we grow into things. We grow into something that's something of what we thought would happen all along.
"That's a weird way of telling me you love me."
"It really is."
And that was just it.
It just happened.
That night I figured that monumental moments were like shooting stars.
You never really notice them.
But when you do, they never seem to leave again.
-
The next morning I woke up and thought of Linda's boobs.
YOU ARE READING
What do the stars feel when they look at Us?
Teen FictionBen starts to care. About you. About people. About his girlfriend. About feelings and being a person. Growing up. But it's difficult. Seemingly, especially, for him. And he's failing. Miserably. So he's starting to look for answers in the stars. Mos...
