Drabbles

Intermissions

     Your pencil taps away aimlessly, the sharp point rattling a small pile of eraser shavings. There's nothing written, not really, but there's enough shavings to help you pretend you've been trying. You haven't, but that's because you have other things on your mind.

     You check your phone for the umpteenth time this night and, like every time before, there are no new messages or calls, at least not from the person you're waiting for. Frustrated, you flick your pencil away and shove your books into your bag. You're never going to finish what you're supposed to. You have other things to do tonight, anyway.

     The night shift is slow and boring and you're checking your phone again and again and again. Nothing.

     Your eyes burn with not having slept and the noise of morning classmates gives you a pounding headache. But your heart feels a little lighter because today you get to see her and that's what you've been needing. So you rub your eyes and wish and hope on the little stars dancing behind your lids, then your hands drop and you can't believe your luck. She's there where she's supposed to be and she looks better than you remember. Her eyes shine brighter than her hair and her dazzling smile surpasses them both. But she only gives you a passing glance and your phone is still silent.

     The paper is supposed to be a dual effort but she hasn't called you and you're too scared to call her. No one said that communication would stop but it seems that you both agreed to what you don't want.

     Neither of you remembers who said what and how you got here, but now you're side by side and sharing ideas and you don't talk about why you don't talk anymore. You never do. Then she's gone and your side is cold and she doesn't hug you goodbye like she used to and your heart is aching enough to make you cry.

     Time passes, too slow to be real, and you've licked your wounds enough to have them heal and scab over. But then she starts looking at you again with those bright eyes and she says "Can we talk?" and you can feel all too painfully how your scabs are ripped away to spill fresh blood.

     She takes you away to where you first kissed and says she wants to try again.

     You sit in the driveway of your friends house and spill your recent drama. She listens and lets you cry on her shoulder, her hand not so much gripping yours and yours grips hers. You ask her for advice and she looks at you sadly and says, "You love her and you always will."

     And now she's in front of you, a hopeful expression on her pretty features, and you're debating on whether to reject her or give her another chance. She gave you months of sleepless nights and anxious hours spent watching your phone for her name. She gave you heartbreak and tears, emptiness and depression, loneliness and sorrow. But then you hear your friends words, "You love her and you always will," and you realize it's true and before you know it you're telling her yes! Yes! Because you'd suffer all over again if it meant she was the one causing you pain.