Application for summer program; Requirements: first person monologue of oppostie sex, w/ conflict
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!”
“How could I be so stupid?! Look at her. She’s gorgeous and I let her slip through my fingers like sand. Look at her. Running around in the rain, soaking wet, and smiling as though she wished the sun would never shine again. Look at her, smiling at him, playing catch me if you can. Look at her, running to him, turning up her face, expecting a kiss. Look at her, tease him as she runs off when he tries to kiss her. Look at her, twirling around in circles, face upturned, smiling and laughing as the rain hits her face. Look at her, laughing as she is finally caught, and he gives her a kiss.”
“Look. At. Her.”
“How could I be so dumb, to push her away like I did? And two times at that. Why did I push her away? Was I afraid of what she would bring with her? Was I afraid of her because we are so alike? Was I afraid of her because she is different from other girls? Because she is unpredictable and so innocent? Was that what made me do what I did? I know I hurt her, but I didn’t know what to do. She is so different from everyone else. Unafraid to say what she thinks or feels. Unafraid to act on things. Unafraid to do things on the spur of the moment. Or maybe it was because of her innocence. Was I afraid of her because we are so different? We seemed to be on two different levels. What I am used to getting, she won’t give. Not even her boyfriend can get her to do that, and they love each other so much.”
“Man, I screwed it up.”
“She used to love me. I used to be the one she turned to. I remember how she cried on my shoulder, when her emotions were so pent up inside that they needed a release. I remember how she apologized for her outburst and for getting my shoulder wet - as if I cared about my shoulder getting wet. I remember how her face had turned from one rent with grief to one full of happiness, though I could still see glimmers of sorrow in her eyes. But I made my choice, and now I will have to deal with the consequences, no matter how they wound me. So here I shall sit, always watching but never touching, like a dream. Instead of her boyfriend, I will be her protector, in hope that one day she will love me again. And when that day comes, will I push her away again? Or will I finally open up my heart and tell her the real truth, the one that she knew but wanted to hear? Only time will tell. And when it does, will I have conquered my fears and chosen right?”
“How could I be so stupid?! Look at her. She’s gorgeous and I let her slip through my fingers like sand. Look at her. Running around in the rain, soaking wet, and smiling as though she wished the sun would never shine again. Look at her, smiling at him, playing catch me if you can. Look at her, running to him, turning up her face, expecting a kiss. Look at her, tease him as she runs off when he tries to kiss her. Look at her, twirling around in circles, face upturned, smiling and laughing as the rain hits her face. Look at her, laughing as she is finally caught, and he gives her a kiss.”
“Look. At. Her.”
“How could I be so dumb, to push her away like I did? And two times at that. Why did I push her away? Was I afraid of what she would bring with her? Was I afraid of her because we are so alike? Was I afraid of her because she is different from other girls? Because she is unpredictable and so innocent? Was that what made me do what I did? I know I hurt her, but I didn’t know what to do. She is so different from everyone else. Unafraid to say what she thinks or feels. Unafraid to act on things. Unafraid to do things on the spur of the moment. Or maybe it was because of her innocence. Was I afraid of her because we are so different? We seemed to be on two different levels. What I am used to getting, she won’t give. Not even her boyfriend can get her to do that, and they love each other so much.”
“Man, I screwed it up.”
“She used to love me. I used to be the one she turned to. I remember how she cried on my shoulder, when her emotions were so pent up inside that they needed a release. I remember how she apologized for her outburst and for getting my shoulder wet - as if I cared about my shoulder getting wet. I remember how her face had turned from one rent with grief to one full of happiness, though I could still see glimmers of sorrow in her eyes. But I made my choice, and now I will have to deal with the consequences, no matter how they wound me. So here I shall sit, always watching but never touching, like a dream. Instead of her boyfriend, I will be her protector, in hope that one day she will love me again. And when that day comes, will I push her away again? Or will I finally open up my heart and tell her the real truth, the one that she knew but wanted to hear? Only time will tell. And when it does, will I have conquered my fears and chosen right?”