He tells me, “You’re the one for me,” but all I hear is, You’re convenient and you’re comfortable.
And even though his voice doesn’t waver…
Even though his eyes gaze straight into mine…
Somehow, the words I hear in my head are always louder than the words that come out of his mouth.
<Click "read more" for more...>
Even though his eyes gaze straight into mine…
Somehow, the words I hear in my head are always louder than the words that come out of his mouth.
<Click "read more" for more...>
I’ve always been that way – insecure, not confident.
I always ask him, “Are you sure?”
I always say, “I’m sorry.”
I always tell him what I think he wants to hear, because of what I think that I hear.
I always say, “I’m sorry.”
I always tell him what I think he wants to hear, because of what I think that I hear.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
It’s him at the door.
“Hey Mary, you wanna go see a movie?” he asks, smiling.
Hey Mary, I’m bored and need someone to hang out with. You’ll do.
Hey Mary, I’m bored and need someone to hang out with. You’ll do.
“Sure, John!” I say, smiling right back, “What movie did you want to see?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says as he steps towards me and takes my hand, “Anything you want to see!”
I’d rather be in the dark theater watching a movie I don’t want to see than talking with you.
I’d rather be in the dark theater watching a movie I don’t want to see than talking with you.
He smiles again.
“Oh…” I say, taken aback by his ‘words’. “Uhm… I guess… We can see… Uhhh…”
I hesitate too long. He notices.
I hesitate too long. He notices.
“Or! We don’t have to see a movie!” he says, grinning.
Yeah! We don’t have to hang out at all!
Yeah! We don’t have to hang out at all!
“Oh… Okay!” I say quietly; I’m fidgeting with my hands.
But… I want to see a movie with you.
But… I want to see a movie with you.
He arches his brow and scratches his chin, “Hmm… Let’s see... Something else...”
Hmm… Is there something else I want to do with you…?
Hmm… Is there something else I want to do with you…?
He pauses with a frown and turns to me, “I’m drawing a blank. You got anything?”
Not really. There’s nothing else you want to do, right?
Not really. There’s nothing else you want to do, right?
“No, not really…” I say. I feel his grip on my hand loosen.
Yes. Yes, I’d like to stay with you.
Yes. Yes, I’d like to stay with you.
Silence.
“Well… Why don’t we go get dinner or something and go from there?” he asks, his voice softening.
I’m hungry; I guess we can go together.
I’m hungry; I guess we can go together.
“Sure,” I say, “If that’s what you want to do!”
He pauses for a moment.
“Of course it’s what I want to do,” he says after a while, smiling.
Duh. I’m hungry.
Duh. I’m hungry.
“Okay…” I say, stepping off the front step.
“Alright, let’s go!” he smiles and turns, walking towards his car.
His back. His back is to me.
I don’t want to go with you.
I don’t want to go with you.
“On second thought,” I blurt out, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“What are we doing?” he asks, turned towards me.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
I don’t know what to say.
“Tell me, do you like being with me?” he steps closer.
Why do you have to be so difficult?
Why do you have to be so difficult?
“I… I…” I hesitate too long. Again.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, his eyes staring straight into mine.
I can’t do this anymore.
“Can’t you just tell me what’s bothering you? Have I been doing something wrong?” he asks, his hands holding gently onto my shoulders. He tucks my hair behind my ear.
What’s wrong with you? I thought you liked me.
What’s wrong with you? I thought you liked me.
“That’s not it!” I shout, looking up into his eyes. “That’s not…”
His eyes.
“We’ve been together for like, half a year already and you still can’t tell me anything,” he says quickly, his voice flustered and anxious – he wavers.
Why have I been dating you for half a year?
Why have I been dating you for half a year?
“If something’s bothering you, tell me,” he says.
I do not speak.
“… You can trust me,” he says.
I do not speak.
He sighs. “… I’m… Gonna go home.”
… What a waste of time. I’m gonna go home.
… What a waste of time. I’m gonna go home.
“… Okay,” I say.
No. Wait.
No. Wait.
He stares again. He bites his lip. He turns his back to me.
He starts walking.
Wait.
Wait.
He stops.
Yes.
Yes.
He doesn’t turn to face me, but he says, “I’ll call you later.”
And even though I want to shut off the little voice in my head…
Even though I want to hear his voice and his voice only…
I hear: No, I won’t. I’m just saying that.
Even though I want to hear his voice and his voice only…
I hear: No, I won’t. I’m just saying that.
“You… You don’t have to today or anything...”
Please. Please do.
Please. Please do.
He gets into his car and drives away.
I watch the car turn the corner; I turn around and step back into the house.
I cry behind the door.
2 comments:
-flail- I like the parallel conversations.
I don't like the stupid girl |:
- the at 71% Sandy.
I love this :), just like sandy I love the parallel conversations.
Maybe it's just because I'm a depressing person because I find it very easy to relate with the main character. For a such a short story, you did a great job of building up the tension and characters :)
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