There's that confession, the one that in the beginning every girl promises she won't have to make.
"Dammit... I like you." She'll spit out with some instant regret as she watches his face for cues.
Then, after so many nights of trying to figure out where she went wrong, she'll make herself a promise to not let anyone else close enough to cut her that deeply again.
A long, lonely journey in her mind will numb the pain. Solitude or perhaps an overload of life will help her forget what should have been hers.
And then in time some stranger wil smile at her, and she'll say hello. Bright blue eyes, or maybe endless brown ones will melt her resolve and she'll tell herself that he could be a good friend. A good friend indeed. One that will say all the right things and sit in silence with her when she cries.
And she'll claim him. He'll smile every time they meet, and her heart will condition itself to surpress the beating. Which will fail in time.
Safety, trust, and laughter will forge a fire that he feeds daily over and over again he proves to be everything she needs. Words unspoken will be their undoing.
She'll glow every time she walks away, and her friends will be sick of hearing about him.
They'll convince her that she needs to know.
And he'll say no.
No comments:
Post a Comment