Wednesday, January 28, 2009
24.12.08
[Background music : About a Girl by The Academy Is..]
We’re in your apartment, watching the action movie I let you pick out on the couch, eating twisties, and drinking Coke. You know I like having something soft and warm around my body, so you have a blanket out in case I get cold. A fight breaks out in the movie, and I watch the excitement on your face grow with every punch and flip and dodge. It makes me so happy, just like it always has.
“Did you see that!? She is so freaking awesome!!”
I nod in agreement and laugh because I think it’s funny that you still get as excited about these things as you did back in high school. And that you swear just as often. But I really don’t mind because I’m used to it and I’m used to you.
“I’m gonna get another soda—do you want one?” you ask, getting up off the sofa.
I shake my head and watch as you walk into the kitchen wearing your fuzzy bunny slippers. I’m all alone now; I sit and stare at the paused TV screen— a half naked woman is holding a gun to the neck of a man she’s got straddled between her legs. I pull out my phone and look at the time. 11:33 pm. I can’t remember the last time I got to hang out with you so late at night, especially for something that wasn’t a school function.
“Press play!” I hear you yell.
You jump back onto the couch, soda in hand, and flash me the same face-teeth-lips smile I first met in the music before I even knew your name. I push the button and grab the blanket from the arm of the sofa and wrap it around myself. You sip your Coke and I just sit there, not really being anyone in particular.
It’s kind of hard to explain, but I can‘t think about what’s going on around me when I’m with you. I get envious of people who can do that, people who be around you and feel every little moment and instantly write poetry in their head. I can’t do that, even thought I’ve wanted to for years. And I wish I was witty enough to think of pretty, meaningful things to you on the spot. I actually rehearse my sweet little nothings in my sleep, hoping that they’ll actually be something one day.
But this day is different. This day is not a hanging-out-at-the-mall-with-you day. It is not a let-you-copy-my-math-homework day. I am alive and alone with you in your apartment and we are adults and not teenagers and I am sitting on the couch next to you, watching a movie, just to make you feel happy and not alone. Today I can feel the warmth of your body inches away from mine. Today I can hear your breathing. Today I can think and not pretend.
“Do you ever wonder if anything could happen with us anymore?”
You turn and look at me, and I know you don’t like my question. You don’t say anything and I start tearing up because you’re probably angry that I brought this up for the gazillionth time in the last four years and because you’re probably going to give me the same answer as before. But you don’t look upset—you just turn the DVD player off and sit and contemplate. Your eyes look at me with the saddest glaze and I can’t take it anymore.
I lean into you, grab your face, and kiss you for the very first time. And you kiss me back. I wrap my body around yours, almost the same way the lady in the movie was doing. I run my lips over your ears, down your neck, across your collarbone, and for the first time ever, I feel infinite. Your hands hold my waist as I hold your arms as we cross the line we once drew together on our hearts with thick black ink. But then you pull away and I see the frustrated look on your face.
“It’s too much, isn’t it? I pushed it, didn’t I?”
The words tumble out of my mouth too fast to make any sense. I get up, grab my keys, and head for the door. And I really hope you don’t stop me because that’ll mean things are still the same and we are still the same people and we can keep being friends. But you do, and my brain wants to kill my heart for how idiotically stupid it’s being right now.
“I’m sorry. You know I’m bad with these things. But I think I’m okay with it now. Like, really okay," you say.
I want to respond with something pretty and memorable, I can’t say all those things that I had planned out for a moment like this. My hands reach out reflexively and wrap around your waist and I start feeling really bad for putting you in this moment of awkwardness. You grab my face and smile at me.
“And I think it would be awesome if we could go back to the couch and finish watching the movie because this is starting to feel way too chick-flickey for me and I need to man it up by watching some guys blast each other’s brains out.”
I shake my head and grinned. Because you always make it better in the best way ever.
“I'm such a girl,” I said, looking into your eyes.
“Yeah, you are.”
You took my hand and walk me back to the couch like a little girl. We sit and you rest your head on my shoulder. And I really believe it’s really okay.
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8:36 AM
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