So it's almost 1 AM and I only got three hours of sleep last night because I hosted the most amazingly fun party ever that night and I should be rejoicing while collapsing into my bed, but that isn't going to happen tonight because my brain decided to make me be spontaneous and want to blog right now. Here we go.
The title of this post is kinda meh, and it's probably really misleading. I mean, I'm gonna start talking about love as soon as I'm done rambling but first I need to finish rambling, ja feel? (10 points for the person who gets the movie reference.)
ANYWAY, so yes, last night was this wonderful party for my wonderful friend Lindsay, who turned 18. I've known her less than a year, but she's easily one of my best friends. I love relationships like that. I think God put those people on Earth to give us hope. Hope that there are good people out there, hope that we can find our soul mates among our friends.
That last bit kind of made it sound like I'm a lesbian, didn't it? I'm not a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
That's not the point of this post. This is going to be really long, I feel like.
Anyway. You were there. And at first I was so scared when you called and said you were at my house so I screamed and dragged Gabi into the bathroom with me so I could have a panic attack. Because I tried so hard to look pretty. I wanted so badly for you to think that I'm pretty. Do you think I'm pretty? What goes through your mind when you see me? I want so badly to know your thoughts again. I remember when you actually told me things. We used to sit together those summer nights and I'd rest my head on you, smelling your cigarette but not caring. Whenever I walk past someone smoking the same cigarettes, my heart skips a beat because it reminds me of you.
You came and sat with me on the patio. I was alone, but you sat next to me and talked to me. I didn't even have to ask. Why did you do that? And in the cold evening air, I wanted to pull you close to me and taste the alcohol on your lips and look at your perfect, sweet smile. There's a picture from that night where I'm being completely ridiculous and you're barely in the picture, but I can see you smiling. What made you smile?
I miss knowing that I was the thing that made you smile.
We talked so much that night. It felt so natural, so right. Did you feel the same way, or was it the alcohol working through your veins, making you horny, too comfortable? Sitting on the stairs, we had to be close. It was so perfect. I wonder if you ever see what I see, think about the things I imagine. Is that why you've turned your back on me so many times? Does the future scare you? Or are you a lost little boy, not done having his fun?
Either way, I understand. It may not be what I want, but I have to understand how you feel. I couldn't force us upon you.
Yet when you said goodbye, you lingered. You leaned into me, but we did not kiss. Your eyelashes were long and your cheeks were flushed. You truly are the most perfect person I've ever seen. Your hands were warm on my back and the way you touched me sent electricity up my spine. You made me feel cliché in the most perfect way. What did all of this mean? Because I knew tomorrow things would go back to the way they always were. Brief words exchanged, nothing meaningful. I would once again return to being nothing to you.
But can I tell you something? In that moment, I didn't care. I reveled in my happiness. I learned to just be happy for the moments you gave me that made my heart flutter the way it used to.
That is what love is.
No comments:
Post a Comment