The Edwards

Second Edward.

The Edwards

• • • • • • • • •

Edward, where are you?

I've been researching, looking, finding for you but all I have is your first name and your painted face.

Maybe you're not real, maybe you just always exist in my dream at the back of my mind. It sucks though, to have a crush on a boy constantly appearing in your dreams.

I bet a thousand bucks that I can never ever find you.

My friends told me you're nothing but thin air fogging in my mind and surrounding my dreams. They told me I was a hopeless romantic, that I was just horny- er, needy.

Is it true though? I got to admitt, I am a hopeless romantic, I am needy too. I'm a girl wanting to have a stable relationship with a boy.

But it's because, Edward, I feel like it's a whole different thing with you. In my dreams, I may be a different person than I am- but that's a part of me hidden under my sleeves.

I'm making no sense am I?

"Do you like painting?"

" ... I try. Do you, Ed?"

"Yeah, I paint a while back."

"How about now?"

"Uh- I guess I lost the inspiration. Besides, We don't have no money to buy a few paintbrushes and paints."

".. Hmm.."

"Yeah.. "

The reason why, is because of lack of inspiration and lack of money. I think it's because you find painting a mess and a waste of time.

Or because your parents want you to spend time playing the piano so that you could exactly be an Edward.

Or maybe, a past occurance?

You told me things about your family, the Twilight fans. About how they push you to become a Cullen minus the fangs and looks, and about how they work and work until they get sick.

"Maybe it's fine for them to work, They say that they're doing it for us anyway. I'm thankful for them though, I just wish they'd spend a little time for me and Alice." You said.

What a kind boy you are, considerate even.

Your parents must be proud of you, exelling in your class and school- working hard in return for them. That eagerness in your aura, I think I'm falling in like for it.

You study in times, you read in free hours too.

About painting, I wish.

"Uhm- do you mind if you.. you know, teach me how to paint... some-- time?"

"You mean.."

"It's fine if you don't really, I just- I've always wanted to to- ahh, It's- you don't really have to.."

"Sure, Belle."

"No, no, It's fine really- you don't have to do it-"

"Hey, I want to."

"Oh um, Thanks then.. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Belle."

I wanted to see your paintings too, but thats being too much to ask. I might be afraid of what'd I see and feel when I touch the strokes.

I maybe feel your sadness, your love for another girl, or maybe your anger and frustration for life.

I'm afraid of the emotions that might break through if I see the colors you mix atop your palette and the amount of paint dipped in your brush.

But there, I met the second Edward.

The brokenly painted multi-colored palette about to break down if they mix too much, turning black. But it still smiles, the colors still brim.

The second Edward, was the Edward that made my heart clench and my mind race about him and his paintings.

But I can't sleep long, for I'm not the cursed princess nor the hungry apple-driven girl. So aideu my secret crush.