a little bit in lova
Hi, First time, hope this is ok.
title: a little be in love.
author: outofmymiind (Alishia)
challenge: non-challenge.
a little bit in love
*
In retrospect, I should’ve seen this coming.
But the funny thing about retrospect is that it only makes sense when you look back, so, really, retrospect only makes you feel stupid. I mean, how could I have not foreseen the effect you have on me back then? My only excuse is that I was thirteen, it was September and you were the first person in the group that made me feel like I wasn’t wasting your time.
(Come to think of it, that’s really unlike you, isn’t it? You’re usually the type that makes people feel dumb, insignificant and even unwanted. )
*
I don’t know how the friendship started; I really can’t remember when you started trusting me and when I started knowing you. I can’t even remember when our conversations went from one sentence to hours, to us losing track of time.
I do remember sitting in the dressing room, and the play is starting in an hour, but I’m still struggling with my lines because I just can’t seem to nail the whole evil laugh thing and I am frustrated and you are in front of me, smiling, and you look at me, really look at me, and ask me to do the laugh again. And I do, because I just can’t say no to you.
It still isn’t working but you’re not laughing at me, instead your hands are suddenly on my stomach, really down my stomach and I almost forget to breathe because you’re getting too closecloseclose. “Alishia, do it again, take a breath, find your voice and do it again.” I think I am about the colour of a tomato; you’re just way too close.
So I laugh again, longer and louder, and you grin at me, looking smug, your hands are on my sides and you’re all up in my personal space, you laugh “See, Lish, told you you could do this.”
Later, when I am on that stage and in my costume and that single spotlight is on me and my whole body racing with adrenaline, and I do the laugh, loud and long and high pitched and the crowd roars with laughter, when I am backstage again, you are in front of me, smiling as always, and you pull me into a hug, you whisper in my ear “You were great, Lish. Just like I expected.”
I think I fell a little bit in love with you.
*
Sometimes I hate it that you know me, that you really know me. Because with other guys I can be as mysterious and elusive as I want to be, I am an actress after all. But not with you, because you know that I know I own a Jack Sparrow wristband and secretly listen to the Jonas Brothers and have this unhealthy obsession with High School Musical because I can sing along and even know all the lines in the movie.
But you know everything about me. I might as well be made of tracing paper, because I am just that transparent to you. I hate how you can see right through me, because that means you know, you know how I feel. You just choose to act like you don’t. (After all, you are one of the best actors I have ever seen)
*
Everyone loved Olivia. So did you, she was your girlfriend and if our school had a golden couple, you guys were so it. I couldn’t hate the relationship you had though, even I liked Olivia. And then one day, it’s suddenly over. I was standing with you and your friends (the ones I used to feel intimidated by) and you act real casual about it. You do that thing you do, with all the slang and the lame jokes that people laugh about even though they are really bad (because you somehow seem to make people laugh no matter what you do or how bad your jokes are) and you say you guys needed this break, and I almost believe you at first.
But then you corner me in the hallway, and you tell me what really happened. Olivia had one of her panic attack and she broke up with you and damnit, you’re heartbroken. You don’t know how to deal, because Olivia, she was everything to you, you say. (And I listen to you, because there’s really nothing more I can do).
You have another fight with Olivia a week later. And then you and Olivia stop talking. And you stop talking for a year.
We still talked though. You told me everything, everything I didn’t want to know, about you and Kate, and you and Annie and you and whatever-her-name-is.
I’m a masochist, and you’re just really oblivious.
But when you’re sitting against a tree, and the sun is shining and there’s just this light breeze and you have your cigarette in hand while I sit cross-legged in front of you and you have that secret smile on your face and slightly lean towards me and say “You’re still my favourite girl, though.”
I can’t help it, I fall a little bit in love.
*
You know exactly what to say.
You know how to hurt me so well, just one look, one little remark and I can feel tears spring in my eyes and you know your effect, and you keep doing it.
And then you try to make it up with sweet words.
Like I said, I’m a masochist and we never were quite like Troy and Gabriella.
*
I love how you say you could never be with someone like me and in the same sentence say you love me so so so much.
You contradict yourself, I don’t think you even know how you feel.
*
It’s nearing five o’clock in the morning. We’re in that garden, sitting on the grass, and I am all nervous because you’re right behind me, giving me a back massage and I think the tingles (not tingles anymore though, they’ve turned into something like electric shocks by now) are from something completely different than my muscles contracting and relaxing. Your hands are under my shoulder blades, and are squeezing my muscles and then you come even closer, your lips inches away from my ears and you whisper “You’re the only reason I did this thing.”
And I can’t help it, I fall a little bit in love again.
title: a little be in love.
author: outofmymiind (Alishia)
challenge: non-challenge.
a little bit in love
*
In retrospect, I should’ve seen this coming.
But the funny thing about retrospect is that it only makes sense when you look back, so, really, retrospect only makes you feel stupid. I mean, how could I have not foreseen the effect you have on me back then? My only excuse is that I was thirteen, it was September and you were the first person in the group that made me feel like I wasn’t wasting your time.
(Come to think of it, that’s really unlike you, isn’t it? You’re usually the type that makes people feel dumb, insignificant and even unwanted. )
*
I don’t know how the friendship started; I really can’t remember when you started trusting me and when I started knowing you. I can’t even remember when our conversations went from one sentence to hours, to us losing track of time.
I do remember sitting in the dressing room, and the play is starting in an hour, but I’m still struggling with my lines because I just can’t seem to nail the whole evil laugh thing and I am frustrated and you are in front of me, smiling, and you look at me, really look at me, and ask me to do the laugh again. And I do, because I just can’t say no to you.
It still isn’t working but you’re not laughing at me, instead your hands are suddenly on my stomach, really down my stomach and I almost forget to breathe because you’re getting too closecloseclose. “Alishia, do it again, take a breath, find your voice and do it again.” I think I am about the colour of a tomato; you’re just way too close.
So I laugh again, longer and louder, and you grin at me, looking smug, your hands are on my sides and you’re all up in my personal space, you laugh “See, Lish, told you you could do this.”
Later, when I am on that stage and in my costume and that single spotlight is on me and my whole body racing with adrenaline, and I do the laugh, loud and long and high pitched and the crowd roars with laughter, when I am backstage again, you are in front of me, smiling as always, and you pull me into a hug, you whisper in my ear “You were great, Lish. Just like I expected.”
I think I fell a little bit in love with you.
*
Sometimes I hate it that you know me, that you really know me. Because with other guys I can be as mysterious and elusive as I want to be, I am an actress after all. But not with you, because you know that I know I own a Jack Sparrow wristband and secretly listen to the Jonas Brothers and have this unhealthy obsession with High School Musical because I can sing along and even know all the lines in the movie.
But you know everything about me. I might as well be made of tracing paper, because I am just that transparent to you. I hate how you can see right through me, because that means you know, you know how I feel. You just choose to act like you don’t. (After all, you are one of the best actors I have ever seen)
*
Everyone loved Olivia. So did you, she was your girlfriend and if our school had a golden couple, you guys were so it. I couldn’t hate the relationship you had though, even I liked Olivia. And then one day, it’s suddenly over. I was standing with you and your friends (the ones I used to feel intimidated by) and you act real casual about it. You do that thing you do, with all the slang and the lame jokes that people laugh about even though they are really bad (because you somehow seem to make people laugh no matter what you do or how bad your jokes are) and you say you guys needed this break, and I almost believe you at first.
But then you corner me in the hallway, and you tell me what really happened. Olivia had one of her panic attack and she broke up with you and damnit, you’re heartbroken. You don’t know how to deal, because Olivia, she was everything to you, you say. (And I listen to you, because there’s really nothing more I can do).
You have another fight with Olivia a week later. And then you and Olivia stop talking. And you stop talking for a year.
We still talked though. You told me everything, everything I didn’t want to know, about you and Kate, and you and Annie and you and whatever-her-name-is.
I’m a masochist, and you’re just really oblivious.
But when you’re sitting against a tree, and the sun is shining and there’s just this light breeze and you have your cigarette in hand while I sit cross-legged in front of you and you have that secret smile on your face and slightly lean towards me and say “You’re still my favourite girl, though.”
I can’t help it, I fall a little bit in love.
*
You know exactly what to say.
You know how to hurt me so well, just one look, one little remark and I can feel tears spring in my eyes and you know your effect, and you keep doing it.
And then you try to make it up with sweet words.
Like I said, I’m a masochist and we never were quite like Troy and Gabriella.
*
I love how you say you could never be with someone like me and in the same sentence say you love me so so so much.
You contradict yourself, I don’t think you even know how you feel.
*
It’s nearing five o’clock in the morning. We’re in that garden, sitting on the grass, and I am all nervous because you’re right behind me, giving me a back massage and I think the tingles (not tingles anymore though, they’ve turned into something like electric shocks by now) are from something completely different than my muscles contracting and relaxing. Your hands are under my shoulder blades, and are squeezing my muscles and then you come even closer, your lips inches away from my ears and you whisper “You’re the only reason I did this thing.”
And I can’t help it, I fall a little bit in love again.