afraid to love [j.u.]

02. favorite jeans

Jesus' Point of View

We just laid down on her bed, in a comfortable silence. Oh how I've wished for this moment.

My legs sprawled across her bed as I laid down on my back, and she was on her side facing me, drawing imaginary circles with her cold finger tips on my chest.

"Are you afraid?" she suddenly said, startling me a bit.

I made eye contact with her and started looking at all her features. Her lips were small, yet plump. She often bit them anxiously. Her big brown eyes had that sparkle when she talks about something she loves. She is just so... perfect. It just makes me feel bad that she thinks the exact opposite.

"Afraid of what?" I asked curiously.

"Afraid that..." her voice trailed off, "afraid that you'll never find love? Afraid that no one will love you?"

She really got me here. This is when I wanted to tell her everything I feel about her. But I can't. It will ruin our friendship. "N-No Why did you ask?"

She sighed. "It's just that no one that I have known has never liked me. A-And it just kind of kills me that I have lived sixteen years and never, not even once, a person has liked me or thought I was pretty."

"I think you're pretty." I blurted out.

"Pshh, you're just saying that because you're my friend."

I remained silent as I was flabbergasted on what I just said.

"Anyway, I'm hungry. Can we go eat somewhere?" she asked.

"Okay, where do you want to eat?"

"Good question. Hmm... well I don't know but I'll think about it while I'll change" She pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and headed towards the restroom.

When she returned, she said, "I lost my appetite"

"What? Why?"

"These are my favorite jeans. They fit me tight now and I am very disappointed in myself."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm saying that I don't want to eat anymore."

As she was talking, she kept looking at her petite body in the tall mirror she had always had in her room.

"But just because some jeans don't fit you anymore doesn't mean you have to starve yourself." I said.

"You don't get it, Jesus!" She raised her voice as she fell to her knees. Tears ran down her now, splotchy pink cheeks, running her hands through her messy hair as she sobbed, loudly. "You don't get it..." She whispered.

I ran to her. i gave her a hug. It's the only thing I can do. It kills me that I can't do anything to make her feel better, but she is very insecure. I wish I could tell her that all her insecurities don't matter. But she won't listen to me. I'm only her friend, and that's all we will ever be. Just friends.

-
okay feels.

also, i think i might be fast with these updates because i have things planned in my head.

- jazmin