"It's hard to wait around for something you know might never happen; but it's even harder to give up when you think it's everything you want." - Anonymous
After 'Shrek', Emily and I watched 'Ice Age', 'The Road to El Dorado', 'Ice Age 2' and 'The Breakfast Club'. Stopping only once so we could fetch some popcorn, biscuits and a couple of sodas. Her parents weren't down stairs so I presumed they had either gone out or retreated to their bedrooms. They sure were relaxed about letting their seventeen year old daughter have an older guy in her room for the entire day. After we retrieved the food and drinks we returned back to watching the movies on her crappy little television.
The entire day just fell away into moments of laughter, sexual tension and concentrated solitude. I didn't think about anything other than the movie and the beautiful girl beside me, there were things I should've been doing that day, classes I needed to attend, but when I was with her there was nothing more important than simply making her laugh, or smile or both. Time passed and nothing changed. Switch the movie every hour or two, move around on the bed a little, shuffle to the left, that leg cramped, so move it, head on shoulders, hair in mouth, pins and needles in arms, it was all a huge mess of awkward and perfect.
But it shouldn't have been that way, at least not with her.
I didn't leave Emily's until just after midnight, and as soon as I did I realised I never should've left. Because as that white wooden door slammed closed behind me, it slapped me into the realisation that I couldn't do that. I couldn't spend the day curled up on some other girls' bed, watching Shrek and eating popcorn when I had a girlfriend I needed to apologise to. I needed to fix things with her.
But the question I found myself asking was, 'did I really want to?'
Did I really want to mend things with the girl I found so easy to forget? It never used to be that way, Georgia used to be the last thing I thought of before I fell asleep (if I did), and the first thing that crossed my mind when I woke up. Whenever I wasn't studying or working out, I'd be with her, watching her perform, waiting for her at work, walking down the boulevard with her hand locked into my own. My entire life revolved around her. And that was, supposedly, how it was meant to be.
But now, now, it was a different story. I rarely managed to spend time with her, not only because of her busy schedule but because of the lack of motivation I had to actually see her. We didn't go out together anymore, and I forgot things as simple as a dinner date. The girl that seemed to be on my mind more than anything else, was not my girlfriend. This girl had brown hair, green eyes and an athletic, curvy body. She laughed like everything amused her and when she smiled it was as though all the stars in the universe collided into a mass of shiny, beautiful, grinning-ness. Nothing made sense but everything was lucid. Her name was not Georgia, it was Emily and she was not my girlfriend.
But did I want her to be?
Maybe half the reason she was so mesmerizing was because she wasn't mine. Perhaps I'm just a total ass-wipe and the only reason I like Emily is because she's not Georgia. But oh, how far from Georgia she is.
She doesn't dance, she doesn't have a packed schedule and can make time to spend all day in bed. She's optimistic and adorable, curvy and free. She goes with the flow while Georgia alters the time of day to fit her plans. How is it even possible to love two people so different from each other? Screw the whole 'type' business, I used to think my type was tall slight girls with black hair, but if that were the case how could I also like someone short and curvy, with wavy brown locks and eyes as green as a forest?
These thoughts pestered me as I walked home from Emily's. I'd opted for my feet when I realised I was full out of cash, but it didn't bother me. It gave me time to adjust to reality and realise all the mistakes I had made. Beyond that though, it forced me to think about the things I'd been avoiding for the past couple of weeks. Georgia, Emily... Emily Georgia... it was time I confronted them.
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Playing Sleep
Ficção AdolescenteJason is nineteen-year-old uni student with a chronic case of insomnia. Emily is a seventeen-year-old high school girl with sporadic bursts of crippling anxiety. The two live in different worlds, but when they meet at a pop-up-punk concert, Jason...