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By stephen Date: 2001 May 17 Comment on this Work [[2001.05.17.03.27.27679]] |
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everyone dull and Everything Sullen.. Cry to the ages Whilst the crows are still crowin' ------------------------------------- I've complained to friends about her constantly. It is mystery how I manage to maintain friends in the first place. Sure they snowball problems my way, but it is usually the same old situation: spilling my love troubles. I don't know if you've ever had this problem before. We all can extract a good amount of obsession every once in awhile. I gained this habit from naturally being a picky person when it came to relationships. It was always hard for me to grasp onto a person of the opposite sex and generally enjoy being around them. It was the typical dreaded inconsistency formula of "The Two Attributes", which, if you haven't caught on yet, is personality and attraction. Sure other factors exist, but for generalization sake, two is sufficient for this conversation. One could stereotype till the end of time ending up nowhere, so lets make this quick; it is hard to find the right combination of personality and appearance. This could be my reasoning for obsession, but on a regular basis, I would deny it. When discovering the perfect spice for the recipe, my heart didn't cook for anyone else since. This was a wee bit past 2 years ago, when I just finished up my sophomore grade in high school. She was a darling petite thing; dirty-blonde hair that curled slightly while coloring itself in the rays of the sun, light hazel eyes beautified with specks of darker detail being covered by light blue contacts that didn't quite keep her original tint hidden. She had that pale healthy reflection with several acne splotches caused by the over consumption of soda products, and a delicate framed slim-waist figure other girls could envy. Her legs are finely slimmed and muscular from her competition dance years, fooling the softness of her shoulders and smooth back ...Oops. Rambling. As I said, I met her and got hooked for some time. She has always seemed to be a quiet person, attaining only one really close female friend. I couldn't say she has ever been interested in dating before, because well, she hasn't, and her mind seems to be better occupied with the newest playstation RPG than with going out to a movie or shoot pool. We could stop this entire blabber-fest right there. Bingo dude, she's not your type! But that is my type, of what I have realized about myself so far. I've had a plentiful assortment of people who don't match with me, for me. Like the sporty athletic energizer, manic depressive actress, the magical Christian faith converter, and the "pop that girl some prozac and shut her the hell up" cheerleader...What did I say about stereotypes? All and all, I know what I want now I believe, and I'm not much the outgoing type as it is. We've become good friends, as friendly as a guy and a girl could get without getting physically comfortable. The 3 out 4 dances I did go to while attending my high school have been with her. It's always been the same ol' deal; take the lovely girl out for a night of a lifetime, then go back to normal the next day, as if nothing had happened. That stuff always got to me. Women can be hideous beasts sometimes. Not like the male apes are any better, but really, the stupid "men are from Mars and women are from Venus" crap could be true. I was going to ask her out at the Senior Prom, but I backed down. My reasoning ruled out my lust I suppose. It was a wonderful night, and I wouldn't want to ruin it for her or me with that kind of pressure. I took her to a great fancy restaurant, commenting on her beauty and paying for her dinner, and all that jazz. At the prom we had fun wiggling around like we knew how to dance, and showed off a neat little swing number her and I put together. We snuggled lovingly close dances, the majority of the time me whispering conversation into her ear, making her giggle a few times. My lips practically trembled so close to her ear. Our faces were combined together, as if kissing sideways. My nostrils filled with pleasant smells of her hair, while my nose tickled from her small blonde curls. Every second of that dance I cherished. Every single touch I painstakingly tried to remember so I wouldn't feel lonely for it later. Her aura of life flourished against me, heating my front side against her. I loved feeling her breathe up against me, her chest puffing in and out as we danced closer and closer. By the end of each slow dance, we would end up as close as one would be while having intercourse. Why do we return after this? What changes while she sleeps? How does one act like a event like this never happened? I will never know for certain. It was a good night nonetheless, and that's always something to be thankful for. Senior year is almost over, and I still have my heart set on this girl. We both got accepted to the same college, so my expectations are high for our future. I still regret not asking her at the most romantic time. I wanted to whisper a wonderful poem about how beautiful she was in her ear as we danced so close. But I didn't. I couldn't. There will be other chances right? There is still hope... One day I will stop treating love like my schoolwork: Procrastination is like masturbation, at first it is wonderful, but then you realize you are fucking yourself. |