ClumsyMonkey.net

The Boy Who Held Dynamite Between His Teeth and the Girl Who

Show off your art.
A pop-up book of flowers from grade 4 are driving her insane...

The Boy Who Held Dynamite Between His Teeth and the Girl Who

Postby committed » 12/17/2003, 12:36 am

The Boy Who Held Dynamite Between His Teeth and the Girl Who Lit The Fuse

“That was quick,” I thought as I stood up in the aisle and waited to walk out. I was anxious to get home from the wedding. I knew she would be there waiting for me. Traffic had prevented her from attending the ceremony with me. Outside the church, I mentioned to my friends that I was going to go home before the reception and one of the girls asked why. “I have things to do,” I told her trying to hold back a smile.

This was a big deal to me. This was the girl who was my most favorite person in the whole wide world. This was the girl whose job in Chicago had permitted me to see her for a total of less than thirty minutes all summer long. The girl who I had never spent longer than an hour with in the six months I’d known her. But it was the weeks leading up to this day that made me realize how big of a crush I had on her.

When I arrived home and entered my house, it took all of my energy just to not dash down the hall into my bedroom. So I did my best to stay calm. As I stepped slowly into the room, the smile I had held back earlier erupted across my face. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed, reading a magazine, with my teddy bear tucked in her lap reading along. I wanted to completely engulf her in a hug, but I opted for a high-five as we greeted each other.

The afternoon and our quick appearance at the reception were uneventful. Upon arriving back at my house, we crashed on my bed, both claiming we were going to sleep. We fought over who got to cuddle with my teddy bear, both putting on our saddest faces when the other took it. All I could think about was how badly, in reality, I wanted to be cuddling with her. We got close to that point as we fought, becoming more and more entangled. Soon she took the bear and turned her back to me. I tapped her on the shoulder until she rolled over, our faces less than a foot apart. She turned her back to me again. I slid my head a couple inches toward her as I repeatedly tapped her shoulder. She rolled back over to face me, but that time I closed my eyes and told her I was going to sleep.

“Fine. I’ll leave. I need to go anyway,” she said. No more the words escaped her mouth, I opened my eyes and kissed her. It lasted several seconds before I pulled away. “What was that for?” she asked.

“You’re leaving,” I replied. She looked at me for a second before raising her head and pressing her lips to mine.

We continued to exchange kisses and cuddles until it was time for her to leave for real. I had gotten exactly what I wanted that night. I got to treat her like my girlfriend for one night and she was going to go back to Chicago, leaving us as only friends so we wouldn’t have to worry about the trouble of a long distance, and possibly serious, relationship. All week long, I had convinced myself that was okay. But with each passing second, I was now convincing myself otherwise.

We left my house and she grabbed hold of my hand. I walked her through the dark to her car. We stood facing each other. We hugged and then kissed. She took my hands.

“Miss me,” she said.

“Always.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She looked me in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I asked.

“I’m leaving.”

I was unsure if she meant leaving my house or leaving to go back to Chicago, but in either case, I told her it was all right. I wrapped my arms tight around her.

“I really am going to miss you,” I said. She requited. I wanted her to leave before I started admitting to myself that I never wanted her to leave. Too late. I kissed her again. And again. “I love you so fucking much.” The words were bleeding from my heart, but I was silent. She didn’t need to take that kind of baggage with her. She got into her car, leaving the door open for our final exchange of goodbyes. At this point, there wasn’t much I could do. Goodbye was quick and painful. One last kiss and a squeeze of the hand. I watched her drive off.

"This is where the story ends," I thought to myself. This is where the story ends.
we are the brand new beatniks. we are the down and outers.
we are the bleeding hearts, beating syncopated, broken rhythm.
our speed is often break neck. we need to slow it down.
tired of being sleepless. tired of being broken.

Image
User avatar
committed
 
Posts: 4893
Joined: 3/15/2002, 10:28 am
Location: on tour

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 18 guests

Delete all board cookies • All times are UTC - 6 hours • PHPBB Powered

Serving Our Lady Peace fans since 2002. Oskar Twitch thanks you for tasting the monkey brains.

cron