9: Cue the long rant… (written 11 August 2015)
Where to start? Ah yes, let’s not fall in love, let’s not make any promises…you looked at him in awe today, as you always do…and when you had to make your free shots and it was like he expected you to make both of them in…So when you do make both your shots you can’t help but feel a little proud inside, beaming with a beautiful ray of golden light within yourself. You smile briefly at the remembrance of this pride, but it slowly fades away as you remember having some alone time with him, asking him about taking him to formal. You inwardly cringe because you can picture his face, the inevitability of it all, but most of all the painful look on his face, the furrowed crease of his eyebrows and his mouth curved in a sympathetic and almost sorrowful way.
You thought about it, dug around within yourself to find anything closely resembling pain, but nothing. Your heart does not burn with heartache or spastic pain. You feel nothing at all inside. Well, you don’t know, but you were a little disappointed-…You feel stupid because you knew the answer he would give, but you tried anyway.
Let’s not fall in love, let’s no make any promises…and even though your residual self-imagery burns so brightly in your mind, you found yourself staring at him with the shine of forlornness and melancholia in your eyes while your song was playing. Let’s not fall in love, let’s not make any promises… –
You feel like saying these words to him, but you know you’ve sort of lost already…you don’t want to admit that you’ve fallen in love with him because you’re not sure if you have. Let’s not fall in love, let’s not make any promises and yet you found yourself standing in front of the mirror inspecting your face for a good ten minutes, perhaps even longer, listening to your song, wondering if you could create that sad song playlist on your phone. You wonder if anything between the two of you could happen one day. You wonder what it would feel like if he reciprocated your feelings. You wonder all sorts of things as you stare at yourself in the mirror. And then it hits you, that today the sun was shining, the afterglow of the setting sun blooming in his eyes. He was not watching you, but you were watching him…You were staring for several seconds because his eyes are neither onyx nor obsidian but a brilliantly deep shade of rich brown, not quite the same shade of brown as your own eyes, but you think it’s the most beautiful eye colour in the world. After all this time it was neither onyx nor obsidian but deep chocolate brown and even though you feel incredulous you feel like you’ve solved a great mystery. It feels like you’ve seen him in a different light (literally). Your view of him does not change, only the way you feel about him. No, you haven’t been cheated or lied to, it’s just such an eye opener for you (why all the puns?). Not quite the same shade of brown as your eyes, but still beautiful nonetheless. And now standing in front of the mirror you’re thinking about how he will never reciprocate your feelings. You feel slightly irritated that somehow after everything, your feelings won’t be reciprocated, but you feel the need to forget about all this and pretend that none of it happened. You want to be able to drown in a pond of happiness, not an ocean of teenage angst.
This song is your go-to song; it’s on repeat and all you can think of is him. What would happen if you were to…kiss him? You’re not really solid on it at all; you obviously want your first kiss to be special, but you don’t know how or who it will be with. You sort of want it to be him, but at the same time, what if he’s a horrible kisser? Actually, you don’ really know, but you don’t really mind. You want to stop thinking about it because you know that in the end, you will only hurt yourself more. But you still continue to think of his lips, of how it would feel to pull him close and just kiss his lips…you stop thinking about the wild side of it and start to think of the consequences if you were really to kiss him. You could psychologically scar him and that’s the last thing you’d want to do (but it’s still on the list?). And you already feel the waves of embarrassment…pulling you under.
(Written 12 August 2015)
But you choose to forget about the pain of it all and you want to focus on the moment, the very core of the moment. You’d want to start off with a long hug. A long embrace where you could, where you can feel his body against yours, and feel his heart beating erratically, but not in time with yours (no matter). You want to run your fingers through his hair (this seems familiar) and whisper things into his ear (beloved, I’d like to tell you something…you suck potatoes), and then he’ll go ballistic with craziness because what you say is completely meaningless, yet quite humorous. You want to be able to pull back eventually though, just so you can lean forward and look deep into his mellow chocolate eyes, and smile ridiculously at him (but not too ridiculously so as to not ruin the moment) and then he will probably close the gap between you both. You think seriously hard about this moment. Every nerve in your body on high alert, your palms shaking, your ears reddening,
P.S. Real or not real?
P.P.S. It’s intentional. It’s an intentional cliffhanger. I can’t bring myself to finish the rest because I can’t and I won’t be able to.
P.P.P.S. Because it’s not real.