He Calls Me 'Mine'

Chapter One - Backgrounds

As I lie awake in bed I look over at the clock that reads 01:54 P.M. I don't want to sleep. Let me rephrase that; I CAN'T sleep. If I dare close my eyes and fall into deep sleep, I'd have endless nightmares of him. He didn't hit me, he didn't break my heart, he didn't break my trust nor did he leave me. He simply exist. I never noticed the attachment I had towards him until later in life. Late 16 early 17. When we were little he was always known as my best friend. Partner in crime. He was my shoulder I cried on after the heartaches of boyfriends and the one I could shove ice cream at in the face, just because I wanted to do it. Now I'm older, and I'm realizing all my beautiful idiosyncrasies towards him. I notice how much I love the way his left eye will squint a little bit more than the right when he laughs. The days he'll actually where his glasses because dear heavens above he looks so good in them. I can't forget his eyes; the way they look and how they look at everything in the world with such wonder and beauty; it's astonishing to me how one can be so amazing that it's indescribable . But I wish I couldn't notice how much I'm in love with him, because he's not in love with me. It's hard being with him, thinking about how much I wish I could hold his hands or wrap my arms around his waist without it being a "friendly gesture." I don't like friends. I like love and lust. Kisses on my neck and hands on my thighs. But he doesn't see it and I don't blame him because people in this world are cruel. And like to twist our truth. Especially while we're drunk. They like to keep are ugly pasts with us in the present. But their favorite thing to do with my past is spread it to him The thing I've noticed about past, present and future is that there is no future. You don't ever realize that someday you'll be living in this grand make believe future that you thought of once before. Because when it is 2093, it'll be your present day. Not your future. We're always living in the present. People may bring up my dark and hideous past and they may hint into my future but I'll always be stuck living this same old boring life without him calling me "mine." Without Jack being mine.