Foreword
Before you read ahead, here's something you ought to know. This story was written on the request of my friend, a friend who fell for a girl he liked to call Jane. And just for the record, I wrote it on 19 October 2012.
--
A voice. Someone's talking. It doesn't matter, doesn't register. Luckily I've snagged a window seat.
My bench-mate, someone I used to call a friend, tries to catch my attention. Probably to repeat some perverted joke the guy next to him thought up. I try not to notice, but give in when he starts to get persistent. I fake the obligatory snigger and he is satisfied.
Making the world a happier place. Yeah. That's part of my job description.
I stared out at the sky. I wish I could mention the fluffy clouds(if any) but I can't. The truth is, I can't remember.
Yeah. Girl trouble. The two words that can make any guy stare out at the sky and brood, make him punch walls, kick tables and sometimes maybe even cry.
She was the traditional perfect girl. Beautiful straight black hair, pretty eyes and all that. Just the right amount of shy. Perfect.
We met when I was trying to set her up with a friend. That friend disappeared, we still kept texting.
If someone asked me what I see in her, I don't think I would be able to stop talking. But if someone asked me when exactly I fell for her I wouldn't know. All I do know is that I had fallen headfirst into this... emptiness.
You probably classified me into the category of the fools who suffer from the widespread disease called unrequited love. Unrequited doesn't begin to cover my story.
She likes me back. She fell for me while she was dating another guy.
It just so happened that the time I texted her coincided with a bad time in their relationship. The rational part of my brain argues that the bitch was just using me for comfort. The stupid part says she really loves me. And she really loves him.
When I told her of my feelings for her, she hadn't tried to dissuade me. Instead she tells me she loves me too. And then the G word. Guilt.
Apparently she felt guilty that she liked me while she was dating him. She said she couldn't do this anymore.
Couldn't do what anymore? I doubt she was referring to texting me because when I tried to stop she kept sending me Good Mornings Good Evenings and Good Nights. For three days. Then I couldn't handle it anymore.
I can't say I know what love is. But I'm pretty sure that the feelings I have for her is the closest I will ever get to being in love.
Love. How it feels to be in 'love' with her is everything wonderful and terrible in the world put together and covered in chocolate.
My real friends, not the idiot sitting next to me, tell me to stop letting her hurt me.
They don't get it. She isn't making me upset. She makes me happy. When she texts I'm walking on clouds; when she calls, I'm dancing in the rain. She doesn't make me upset.
I do get messed up though. So messed up in the head that I just want to curl up into a ball in my comforter. Someone told me chocolates help. I eat chocolates by the boxful and it doesn't help. I get throbbing headaches because I think too much. But all that happens in my head. Its not fair that they blame her for it.
The bell rings. The sound pierces through the little world I had created in my corner. The other kids get out of their seats, I do too. Following them mechanically. Like a zombie. Brain dead.
Someone makes another perverted joke. I manage the obligatory snigger. Everyone's satisfied. Making the world a happier place.
--
Afterword
Cheaters make the world a little tougher to be in and it is possibly the most detrimental relationship experience you can have. To be cheated on, to be led on.
Anyway, when my friend asked me to write this story, he asked me to write about a guy who fell for a 'taken' girl. And I say I have written plenty about girls who've been cheated on.
Anyway, this story means something to me just because I saw this friend of mine hurt. And I wanted nothing better than to hurt her for hurting him. And that guy she was actually dating. But that's another story.
In case anyone wants to read the stories I mentioned about the girl being cheated on, I'll put up links in a while. Or you could head over to http://aimlessthreadz.blogspot.com and read 'Big Girls Don't Cry' and 'Pink Strawberry Ice Cream.'
Yeah. I'll just put up links later.
Love. xxx
Before you read ahead, here's something you ought to know. This story was written on the request of my friend, a friend who fell for a girl he liked to call Jane. And just for the record, I wrote it on 19 October 2012.
--
A voice. Someone's talking. It doesn't matter, doesn't register. Luckily I've snagged a window seat.
My bench-mate, someone I used to call a friend, tries to catch my attention. Probably to repeat some perverted joke the guy next to him thought up. I try not to notice, but give in when he starts to get persistent. I fake the obligatory snigger and he is satisfied.
Making the world a happier place. Yeah. That's part of my job description.
I stared out at the sky. I wish I could mention the fluffy clouds(if any) but I can't. The truth is, I can't remember.
Yeah. Girl trouble. The two words that can make any guy stare out at the sky and brood, make him punch walls, kick tables and sometimes maybe even cry.
She was the traditional perfect girl. Beautiful straight black hair, pretty eyes and all that. Just the right amount of shy. Perfect.
We met when I was trying to set her up with a friend. That friend disappeared, we still kept texting.
If someone asked me what I see in her, I don't think I would be able to stop talking. But if someone asked me when exactly I fell for her I wouldn't know. All I do know is that I had fallen headfirst into this... emptiness.
You probably classified me into the category of the fools who suffer from the widespread disease called unrequited love. Unrequited doesn't begin to cover my story.
She likes me back. She fell for me while she was dating another guy.
It just so happened that the time I texted her coincided with a bad time in their relationship. The rational part of my brain argues that the bitch was just using me for comfort. The stupid part says she really loves me. And she really loves him.
When I told her of my feelings for her, she hadn't tried to dissuade me. Instead she tells me she loves me too. And then the G word. Guilt.
Apparently she felt guilty that she liked me while she was dating him. She said she couldn't do this anymore.
Couldn't do what anymore? I doubt she was referring to texting me because when I tried to stop she kept sending me Good Mornings Good Evenings and Good Nights. For three days. Then I couldn't handle it anymore.
I can't say I know what love is. But I'm pretty sure that the feelings I have for her is the closest I will ever get to being in love.
Love. How it feels to be in 'love' with her is everything wonderful and terrible in the world put together and covered in chocolate.
My real friends, not the idiot sitting next to me, tell me to stop letting her hurt me.
They don't get it. She isn't making me upset. She makes me happy. When she texts I'm walking on clouds; when she calls, I'm dancing in the rain. She doesn't make me upset.
I do get messed up though. So messed up in the head that I just want to curl up into a ball in my comforter. Someone told me chocolates help. I eat chocolates by the boxful and it doesn't help. I get throbbing headaches because I think too much. But all that happens in my head. Its not fair that they blame her for it.
The bell rings. The sound pierces through the little world I had created in my corner. The other kids get out of their seats, I do too. Following them mechanically. Like a zombie. Brain dead.
Someone makes another perverted joke. I manage the obligatory snigger. Everyone's satisfied. Making the world a happier place.
--
Afterword
Cheaters make the world a little tougher to be in and it is possibly the most detrimental relationship experience you can have. To be cheated on, to be led on.
Anyway, when my friend asked me to write this story, he asked me to write about a guy who fell for a 'taken' girl. And I say I have written plenty about girls who've been cheated on.
Anyway, this story means something to me just because I saw this friend of mine hurt. And I wanted nothing better than to hurt her for hurting him. And that guy she was actually dating. But that's another story.
In case anyone wants to read the stories I mentioned about the girl being cheated on, I'll put up links in a while. Or you could head over to http://aimlessthreadz.blogspot.com and read 'Big Girls Don't Cry' and 'Pink Strawberry Ice Cream.'
Yeah. I'll just put up links later.
Love. xxx
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