reconsider

him

him;

it’s nearly a new year. i haven’t seen her in two weeks. not after that day when we were both sleeping. my mom had walked in on us, and i remember the way she jumped beside me, startled at my mother’s presence. we weren’t doing anything, we were just… lying down, side by side.

i think that’s why my mom looked at me differently—even though i was surprised she looked at me at all—i think she knew that this was not another of my, for the lack of a better term,  conquests.

my mother knew how special the girl lying beside me was before i did.

i’m out with all of my friends, and she’s probably at home in her room. she was never one for wild celebrations. jason shoves me. “what’s up with you, bro?” he inquires. i just shake my head (as if the thoughts of her could just fall out). i wish she was in my arms, i wish i could kiss her; i ache to see her face again—and not just in my mind. two weeks is an awfully long time. what is up with me?

she’s just a girl.

right?