It has been two weeks since I was with him outside of school. It seems like too long. Two Mondays ago I ran errands with him like a girlfriend. We stood in the long line with our clothing clinging to our sweaty bodies due to the spring sun. Then we proceeded onto his house, sprawled on the couch flipping through the pages of a National Geographics magazine. Then I looked his direction and leaned in and kissed him.
In retrospect, with almost every boy that I kissed, I initiated. Not once can I remember a face casting a shadow on my face-it's always been me to make the first move. That does not make me feel good. At the end of our afternoon, I kissed him and he said he'd call me that night but my phone didn't ring with his designated ringtone. That was the Monday after the weekend where I drunkedly kissed another guy and gave him my ring as a sort of remembrance.
That weekend he told me he had things to take care of. To me, it began our falling out. My heart hung low and I went off and downed my sorrows with cheap vodka and threw myself on a stranger. To this day, I don't know how the guy I liked felt about that-once I cried to him in the back of a pick up after showing up to the same party he declined my invitation to. Did he hurt, was he indifferent. If I found out that he had shared a kiss with another girl I would be upset. But then again, we don't exactly belong to eachother.
I'm dumb girl. If I do like him, I wouldn't have hooked up with another guy. But it was because the thought of us falling out hurt so much that I acted as I did.
What kind of stupid naive justification is that?
I just want to be with him. I don't even know that he doesn't want me. I should find out. Either I need closure or assurance.
For the first time in my life I feel vulnerable with my emotions towards a guy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)