“Things that are beautiful versus things that are painful it doesn’t matter. We want to cling to them.” -Elsa Kennedy
“A Little About You”
Fiction. Based on a True Bum Ass Boy
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional
I could say a lot about you. You are pretty much the only thing that has been on my mind the last few days. The thought of you wakes me up in the morning and tucks me in every night. I could say a lot. I could say that you have the brightest blue eyes of anyone I have ever met. They’re always brighter then I remembered. Sometimes I have to look away because looking into them makes me feel vulnerable, exposed with nothing to hide behind. I could say that the sound of your voice should annoy me when I hear it every day for hours; instead, I go out of my way to spend more time listening to you. I could say that your childlike excitement for rain and violet colored night skies should seem silly, but it makes me smile every time. I could say that not knowing whether you feel the same drives me crazy. That one is true.
I thought I could handle being friends with you. Just friends. Sure it hadn’t worked so well with the last guy, but I was older and more mature, or so I thought. I was positive I could control my emotions. At first, I lied to myself all the time. He’s not that great, I’d hear myself say as if the words alone would make it true. I like just hanging with you, I would tell him, lying through my teeth.
Then one night you flipped the script. You changed everything, and I didn’t know if I was happy or upset with you for it. Maybe a bit of both. I was elated because you gave me hope. I was miserable because you gave me hope. An opportunity to get my heart broken by you. Did I give you hope, too?
So the chase began. Me pursuing you. I waited for you to turn around and chase after me, but you never did. Initially, I was determined to get you. Fire in my eyes. Eventually, I grew exhausted. It wasn’t fun anymore. It was torture. All I wanted was a response, something to let me know I wasn’t chasing in vain.
Not knowing how you felt about me made me second guess how I felt about you. I was close to cutting my losses and giving up. I closed my eyes, took in a big breath, and began to run one last time. I threw you one last lifeline and waited to see if you’d take the bait. I could be patient for a little longer. But would you take it?
I could say a lot about you. I could say you were the first boy I let hold my hand. I could say you were the highlight of my day. I could say that the weight of your head resting against mine felt like the most amazing sensation in the world. I could say that I tortured myself thinking about those memories. That would all be true.
I could say we were the greatest love story ever told; up there with the classics. I could say you shattered me past the point of no return. Which one was true?
I could say that you were a boy that I was unfortunate enough to catch feelings for. That you liked me just not enough. And I liked you just not enough to make it work. I could say that things fizzled out naturally and that was that. Nothing happened, nothing at all. Would that be true?
You stood me up. For the last time, I decided. Once again I had put my faith into you, and you let me down. Did you even care? Would you even remember tomorrow? Did you know how it felt glancing at my phone every twenty minutes hoping to hear a loud beep with your name flashing across the screen? Did you know how it felt sitting there on the couch alone amongst the paired off couples, wondering if you even saw my message? And if you had, did you simply choose to pretend you hadn’t. You provided no explanation, just six simple words as your apology.
All night I read and reread those six words until they were engraved in my mind. Did you even think twice about me? Did you lose sleep over how awful yesterday had been, and thank the stars you wouldn’t have to see me? Because for the first time ever, I was glad I didn’t have to see you. Part of me wishes you would show up unannounced at my door or shoot me a text, or literally any gesture that showed you cared even a little about me. Part of me wishes we never had to see each other again. But the reality is that you won’t be standing outside my door with English roses or cookies or even a smile. You won’t be there at all. And I can’t avoid you forever because whether we like it or not, we’re stuck together. So I suppose I’ll just do what I always do. I’ll pretend I didn’t notice or care that you stood me up again, I’ll forgive you immediately, so you don’t have to carry any guilt, and I’ll convince myself I’ve moved on. I’ll let you walk all over me and away because it’s easier than admitting you meant enough to hurt me.