Mid-Un-Thought
...I mean I've been back for two weeks and then I just thought, I just thought that we were going to hang out with other people yesterday afternoon. He's done that before; made me think that maybe it was a date but then invited other people to come along - but no, I didn't know it was a date, not for sure, until we were walking around and he asked about movies. No way, no way! We went bowling instead - and even then, I tried to pay my way.
He paid for everything. He paid for the socks, he paid for the games, he paid for the billiards, he paid for the romantic Italian cafe, and he paid for the drinks. I was counting - I had thought that I'd be paying, too - but no! My share was more than sixty dollars, just for me, and I'll be damned if that restaurant didn't serve a dish that tasted exactly like my mother's venison stew; I'll be damned if my father didn't get joy from spending money on me and holding open the doors; I'll be damned if it wasn't the best date I've ever been on.
But it was a date. And it was my dream and it was everything, but I couldn't be excited about it like I would've been in the past. My heart still beat a bit faster, but it wasn't the same. Why?
If it was all I'd ever wanted, why?
Is it something about turning twenty? Is that what it is?
Because I'm not perfectly happy. I'm still scared, I'm still holding back, thinking, there's a catch. And that's what everyone tells me. They say I shouldn't have even gone in the first place. They say, "he treated you so badly -- fuck him. He doesn't deserve another chance, and you shouldn't tell him that he does."
But I still want to... I think... I don't know.
I do know one thing. That thing I was trying to say before. About my hair.
I'm not going to wear it like he asked me to. If I do that, then he'll know he's won. And for some reason, I really believe everyone. I agree with them. I think it's true, in my heart as well.
He is gonna have to earn my love, this time.
He paid for everything. He paid for the socks, he paid for the games, he paid for the billiards, he paid for the romantic Italian cafe, and he paid for the drinks. I was counting - I had thought that I'd be paying, too - but no! My share was more than sixty dollars, just for me, and I'll be damned if that restaurant didn't serve a dish that tasted exactly like my mother's venison stew; I'll be damned if my father didn't get joy from spending money on me and holding open the doors; I'll be damned if it wasn't the best date I've ever been on.
But it was a date. And it was my dream and it was everything, but I couldn't be excited about it like I would've been in the past. My heart still beat a bit faster, but it wasn't the same. Why?
If it was all I'd ever wanted, why?
Is it something about turning twenty? Is that what it is?
Because I'm not perfectly happy. I'm still scared, I'm still holding back, thinking, there's a catch. And that's what everyone tells me. They say I shouldn't have even gone in the first place. They say, "he treated you so badly -- fuck him. He doesn't deserve another chance, and you shouldn't tell him that he does."
But I still want to... I think... I don't know.
I do know one thing. That thing I was trying to say before. About my hair.
I'm not going to wear it like he asked me to. If I do that, then he'll know he's won. And for some reason, I really believe everyone. I agree with them. I think it's true, in my heart as well.
He is gonna have to earn my love, this time.