Now that I've gotten through all of the Michaels, I'm not really sure what to write about. I feel like maybe I should be recording our story: what's been going on, what happened up until this point. But I'm not really sure where to start. I already discussed how you're not a standout guy, how you became a standout guy, and kind of what you are like now, but now what?
I suppose for a bit I'll discuss the fact that it could have been me. Even after all this time, it still could have been me.
I remember my heart pounding, and I could barely get words out, even though I wanted to because I had never told anyone before. And then you told me you knew. That it was so obvious. And I laughed and said that I wasn't really trying to hide it. Not really. And I pulled in front of your house because I had spent the last half an hour figuring out how to time it perfectly. Just so we wouldn't spend a lot of time in silence. We said goodnight, and maybe I looked at you a few seconds to long. We won't say if you looked at me. Honestly, I wasn't surprised when you told me through a series of awkward gestures and uncomfortable stuttering that "I'm sorry, but Lauren..." I knew she was a factor. What you didn't tell me was that if Lauren Louisa Martin had never been born, if she had not existed, then it would have been me. You told my friend that it could have been me. Again, I guess that I was just not good enough. You never told me that I was an almost. A could-have. Maybe not a should-have, though, and I guess that was the problem. Part of me thinks that I could still be one if I tried. You say that you've "stopped trying to pursue her because whatever happens will happen." Again, I applaud you on your diction with "pursue". Anyway, I guess I kind of feel the same way. But if we both are lacking in the pursuing department with different people, this will never work. Nothing will ever work. I have so many objections and so many reasons why I believe it won't work, but still, here I am, making claims like you feel like home. Sometimes I make myself sick. Or maybe it's just one cup of coffee too many.
Hey guys!
Just another reminder to please vote and comment! I've been dealing with a decent amount of writers' block lately and I've been very busy with school and work and such, so bear with me here! :)
Bunches of love,
AllAtOnce99
YOU ARE READING
To All The Michaels I Have Ever Known
Teen Fiction*EDITED, REVISED, AND COMPLETED 08/22* Let me just lay this out for you really quick: 1. Freshman year of high school there was a Michael. He was tall, like 6'8, and once he decided to not be a dick, he was really sweet. 2. You. Obviously. Tha...
