Texts
Last month my phone buzzed. I knew exactly who it was just by the time of day. He always texts me once every month to say “I miss you! Let’s hang out!” but we won’t.
He’s taunting me. I’m fairly certain his only purpose on this Earth is to ruin all other men for me.
To say that I like him is an understatement. I’ve been in love with him for years, and I’ve had more meals with him than with my best friend. He’s just always been around, with his chestnut brown hair that sweeps across his eyebrows and covers his perfect ears just as he grows it to do, and his rough beard that prevents people from seeing his chin that he thinks is too pointy but I just want to nibble on...I could stare at him forever.
It’s probably a good thing that we don’t have time to spend together anymore. It’s always the same scenario anyways. He’ll pick a place to eat and I’ll drive us there. He will tell the host that we need two seats and they’ll probably put us in a darkly-lit area, in the back booths, with a candle between us or a chandelier above. People around us will give us cute glances. We really do look great together: everyone thinks so. Ladies will wink or smile at me, noting how I glow when I’m around him. They all think we’re on a date and, for a brief moment, I do too, and I am happy.
Then we’ll start chatting. Oh, we’ll talk about the usual stuff like classes and work, maybe old friends and teachers, and even the food or the restaurant. Then he’ll talk about his life and his friends and girls, and I bite back tears and overcompensate by telling him which ones I like and who he should go out with.
Then we’ll eat and make jokes. He will laugh and tell me more stories. I’ll listen intently; watching how light makes glitter appear in his blue eyes. Then I’ll slide in a comment about how I feel about him, and he already knows and always has, and he laughs it off, so I do too.
I will be self-conscious and worry the whole time about food in my teeth and my hair being a mess, or maybe even having raccoon eyes from old mascara, but then he’ll say something amazing, and I’ll melt a little.
The waiter will bring our bill and hand it to him. We’ll chuckle it off and figure out how much we both owe. I’ll always pay too much, just in case.
Then, we will leave, and he will have to be getting somewhere. I will have to drop him off by a class or at his car. I may even need to go out of my way, but I do it with a smile just for a few more seconds with him.
He’ll leave with a simple goodbye and then he’s out of my life again…at least, for a month or so. Then I get a text.
This month, I texted him. Apparently, he’s too busy.
I’m thinking of changing my number.
He’s taunting me. I’m fairly certain his only purpose on this Earth is to ruin all other men for me.
To say that I like him is an understatement. I’ve been in love with him for years, and I’ve had more meals with him than with my best friend. He’s just always been around, with his chestnut brown hair that sweeps across his eyebrows and covers his perfect ears just as he grows it to do, and his rough beard that prevents people from seeing his chin that he thinks is too pointy but I just want to nibble on...I could stare at him forever.
It’s probably a good thing that we don’t have time to spend together anymore. It’s always the same scenario anyways. He’ll pick a place to eat and I’ll drive us there. He will tell the host that we need two seats and they’ll probably put us in a darkly-lit area, in the back booths, with a candle between us or a chandelier above. People around us will give us cute glances. We really do look great together: everyone thinks so. Ladies will wink or smile at me, noting how I glow when I’m around him. They all think we’re on a date and, for a brief moment, I do too, and I am happy.
Then we’ll start chatting. Oh, we’ll talk about the usual stuff like classes and work, maybe old friends and teachers, and even the food or the restaurant. Then he’ll talk about his life and his friends and girls, and I bite back tears and overcompensate by telling him which ones I like and who he should go out with.
Then we’ll eat and make jokes. He will laugh and tell me more stories. I’ll listen intently; watching how light makes glitter appear in his blue eyes. Then I’ll slide in a comment about how I feel about him, and he already knows and always has, and he laughs it off, so I do too.
I will be self-conscious and worry the whole time about food in my teeth and my hair being a mess, or maybe even having raccoon eyes from old mascara, but then he’ll say something amazing, and I’ll melt a little.
The waiter will bring our bill and hand it to him. We’ll chuckle it off and figure out how much we both owe. I’ll always pay too much, just in case.
Then, we will leave, and he will have to be getting somewhere. I will have to drop him off by a class or at his car. I may even need to go out of my way, but I do it with a smile just for a few more seconds with him.
He’ll leave with a simple goodbye and then he’s out of my life again…at least, for a month or so. Then I get a text.
This month, I texted him. Apparently, he’s too busy.
I’m thinking of changing my number.