imaeatyaface
1st Aug 2010, 12:02 AM
This is something I've been working on for a few weeks that I decided to share. Yes, it's told in second person narrative, completely intentional. And yeah, there's a difference between bolded and not bold "he." Comments and criticism are appreciated! :)
Him
by imaeatyaface
The minute you think you've got everything figured out about him, that you think you actually know him, it all goes wrong and you suddenly realize that you don't know anything about your two best friends, and maybe you never did. Because if you actually knew a thing or two about him and him, this whole disaster wouldn't be happening. And maybe your heart wouldn't feel like it's on fire. But it is happening, and your heart does feel like it's on fire; you're careful not to show anything to him, of course. Your mistakes shouldn't be haunting him.
Bottling it up isn't good, however, you still feel Hurt, slight Anger at the fact that he'll never love you, Betrayal (even though your mind tries to tell you he didn't betray no one) and the inevitable Sadness. Yet in the back of your mind, you can't help thinking that you should have known.
But you did know, you did and even worse, you ignored it. You knew but you couldn't stop loving him, just like he can't stop loving him.
And you wonder why you didn't notice sooner; you all grew up together, and you always thought he would tell you anything and everything. But your thinking in't exactly valid because you didn't exactly tell him how you felt either, not like that would make a difference. You never noticed them growing close when you were younger, except the inside jokes; but you had some jokes with the girls you kept secret, too. Jokes that they wouldn't understand. So you pushed it aside, ignored it. But then puberty and hormones hit you all like a ton of bricks. Boys started to like girls, girls started bragging about first kisses and who they were 'with'. And when asked if you were 'with' him, you found yourself eying him with newfound interest and replying with a vague, 'Oh, I wouldn't mind.'
So you started to stare at him, even though he would just look up and smile; not even a shy, embarrassed smile, just his usual friendly one. Oddly enough, when other girls did the same thing, he'd still smile back with that maddeningly friendly smile. You just reminded yourself that sometimes boys mature slower than girls, so in no time he'd be yours. And you continued to assure yourself this, even after he'd rejected nearly all the girls that liked him. Even after him and him would sometimes disappear off to somewhere together, leaving you biting your nails and hoping that they wouldn't meet any girls there. How wrong you were.
Then you got a little bit older, a little wiser. He started to stare, stares that at first you thought were directed at you. Upon turning around you'd notice him there, and silently curse him for ruining a "moment" between you two. You did find it a little weird though, how he was always there when he stared at you; then it hit that he was staring at him, and not you. You, again, just put it off as a joke, or maybe a distraction, even though you knew it wasn't true. Suddenly he was going with him to more and more secluded places, not inviting you. This stung, it really did, and maybe should have been the big give away to what he was hiding. But no, your heart (or maybe your head?) refused to believe it.
And he'd go "meet somebody" more and more, and you had hoped it was just a friend to talk to, not anything else, and you didn't think so.
So you'd shoot daggers at any girl who you'd happen to catch talking to him, and they'd abruptly end the conversation. He always looked confused when that happened. You didn't blame him, you would be too if some jealous boy did that to you. You still thought he was canoodling with one of the girls, yet when Valentines Day rolled around, he received nothing from any of the girls. You didn't receive nothing romantic from him, either. Yet him and him disappeared again that day, coming back flushed and grinning stupidly. And you know this because you waited for them outside of your childhood "chilling spot". You had asked where they'd been, and--was that a flash of Nervousness that spread across their faces? It sure was, and you then realized he wasn't and never would be interested in you. Or any other girls.
And then today, otherwise known as The Day Your Heart Died, you found them. Not doing anything with another girl, but -oh, God- each other. Lips pressed against each other, breaking apart as someone let out a sob. And then you realize that that someone was you, a bit too late as they turn to you; his beautiful eyes mixed with shock and sadness (for what?), his eyes wide as saucers, both visibly shocked.
"Th-this isn't what it looks like." He says, blushing fiercely, in a tone so unlike him, like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. But you know it is what it looks like, when you add it all up. And you turn around, not caring about the tears cascading down your cheeks, not caring about who hears you sobbing. You turn and run, not waiting for anyone to follow you, which no one does.
And it doesn't matter anymore, nothing matters anymore. Because he will love him, never you.
Him
by imaeatyaface
The minute you think you've got everything figured out about him, that you think you actually know him, it all goes wrong and you suddenly realize that you don't know anything about your two best friends, and maybe you never did. Because if you actually knew a thing or two about him and him, this whole disaster wouldn't be happening. And maybe your heart wouldn't feel like it's on fire. But it is happening, and your heart does feel like it's on fire; you're careful not to show anything to him, of course. Your mistakes shouldn't be haunting him.
Bottling it up isn't good, however, you still feel Hurt, slight Anger at the fact that he'll never love you, Betrayal (even though your mind tries to tell you he didn't betray no one) and the inevitable Sadness. Yet in the back of your mind, you can't help thinking that you should have known.
But you did know, you did and even worse, you ignored it. You knew but you couldn't stop loving him, just like he can't stop loving him.
And you wonder why you didn't notice sooner; you all grew up together, and you always thought he would tell you anything and everything. But your thinking in't exactly valid because you didn't exactly tell him how you felt either, not like that would make a difference. You never noticed them growing close when you were younger, except the inside jokes; but you had some jokes with the girls you kept secret, too. Jokes that they wouldn't understand. So you pushed it aside, ignored it. But then puberty and hormones hit you all like a ton of bricks. Boys started to like girls, girls started bragging about first kisses and who they were 'with'. And when asked if you were 'with' him, you found yourself eying him with newfound interest and replying with a vague, 'Oh, I wouldn't mind.'
So you started to stare at him, even though he would just look up and smile; not even a shy, embarrassed smile, just his usual friendly one. Oddly enough, when other girls did the same thing, he'd still smile back with that maddeningly friendly smile. You just reminded yourself that sometimes boys mature slower than girls, so in no time he'd be yours. And you continued to assure yourself this, even after he'd rejected nearly all the girls that liked him. Even after him and him would sometimes disappear off to somewhere together, leaving you biting your nails and hoping that they wouldn't meet any girls there. How wrong you were.
Then you got a little bit older, a little wiser. He started to stare, stares that at first you thought were directed at you. Upon turning around you'd notice him there, and silently curse him for ruining a "moment" between you two. You did find it a little weird though, how he was always there when he stared at you; then it hit that he was staring at him, and not you. You, again, just put it off as a joke, or maybe a distraction, even though you knew it wasn't true. Suddenly he was going with him to more and more secluded places, not inviting you. This stung, it really did, and maybe should have been the big give away to what he was hiding. But no, your heart (or maybe your head?) refused to believe it.
And he'd go "meet somebody" more and more, and you had hoped it was just a friend to talk to, not anything else, and you didn't think so.
So you'd shoot daggers at any girl who you'd happen to catch talking to him, and they'd abruptly end the conversation. He always looked confused when that happened. You didn't blame him, you would be too if some jealous boy did that to you. You still thought he was canoodling with one of the girls, yet when Valentines Day rolled around, he received nothing from any of the girls. You didn't receive nothing romantic from him, either. Yet him and him disappeared again that day, coming back flushed and grinning stupidly. And you know this because you waited for them outside of your childhood "chilling spot". You had asked where they'd been, and--was that a flash of Nervousness that spread across their faces? It sure was, and you then realized he wasn't and never would be interested in you. Or any other girls.
And then today, otherwise known as The Day Your Heart Died, you found them. Not doing anything with another girl, but -oh, God- each other. Lips pressed against each other, breaking apart as someone let out a sob. And then you realize that that someone was you, a bit too late as they turn to you; his beautiful eyes mixed with shock and sadness (for what?), his eyes wide as saucers, both visibly shocked.
"Th-this isn't what it looks like." He says, blushing fiercely, in a tone so unlike him, like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. But you know it is what it looks like, when you add it all up. And you turn around, not caring about the tears cascading down your cheeks, not caring about who hears you sobbing. You turn and run, not waiting for anyone to follow you, which no one does.
And it doesn't matter anymore, nothing matters anymore. Because he will love him, never you.