Everything went wrong.
His decline of my request sent my flying into an orgasm of tears. It wasn't him being so tired and weary that made me cry, it was everything that had bottled up inside of me that day. Everything that had gone wrong just seemed to come out in a completely discombobulated mess of words and emotions last night as he was lying there, trying to go to sleep.
I wanted and needed droplets of water to be beating down on my back from behind. I wanted the warm comfort that I would get inside the marble walls of my shower. I wanted him to be there with me, so he could keep me standing up straight, considering I completely lacked the ability. I wanted him to be there with me for an even better sence of comfort. In my mind, the shower was an island of utopia, and all it required was turning the knob to the desired and perfect temperature.
The idea didn't appeal to him. In the least.
It's the morning after a night of coladapins, which means that there is probably no way I could even try to explain the conversation (or lack there of) I had with him while I was sobbing hysterically, sometimes in his arms, sometimes as far away from him as I could possibly get.
I had spent the entire drive home waiting to be held in his embrace. I wanted to love him. I loved the people I was with more than anything in the world.... but I wanted to be with him more. It was incredibly bizarre; like I had just been weaned fcrom something I wasn't ready to be separated from.
Girlfriends. I have very few of them. The few I had complained that I spent too much time with Alex, and although I could agree, I couldn't find any desire to motivate myself to see him any less. I laughed off their joked and played along with them until there I was... in the middle of a field in a small town outside of Vergennes... without him.
I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I had wanted to go home on the drive here (wherever we were) and I wanted to go home now. We had hauled a good 40 minutes away from the only place I wanted to be, and there was much to be done with my passengers from now until the point I actually got to be with him again. I had to count the seconds.
When I finally returned to him, I felt like I had gone to the far ends of the earth and back, and I was there in front of him, waiting for him to jump on top of me and welcome me in his long and boney arms. He didn't.
This served as nothing but the cherry on top of the massive dirt pie I had been creating throughout the course of this past week. I didn't realize how stressed I had been until I was allowing my thoughts to smear the dirt pie in my face and lather it around like I was on some game show that revolved around whipped cream pies. Only mine was dirt, mud, and the worms of maggots of high school.
I don't remember falling asleep, and I especially don't have any recollection at all of him getting up at 5AM and leaving for work. I must have slept through it. Usually I'm awake to see him go, and I can give him a goodbye kiss or something of the sort. But this morning I woke up, expecting him to be there when I turned around. I was expecting to be held for another five or ten minutes before my alarm went off and I'd have to get up and get ready to go to school. I expected the pretty face of the most amazing boy I've ever known to be lying there with his eyes closed and a slight snore coming from his nostrils. I was sadly disappointed. In fact, I was devastated that I was alone. I felt somewhat like my bedroom was some random field that was misplaced in a small town outside of Vergennes, and I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home and be held in his arms.
I wanted and needed droplets of water to be beating down on my back from behind. I wanted the warm comfort that I would get inside the marble walls of my shower. I wanted him to be there with me, so he could keep me standing up straight, considering I completely lacked the ability. I wanted him to be there with me for an even better sence of comfort. In my mind, the shower was an island of utopia, and all it required was turning the knob to the desired and perfect temperature.
The idea didn't appeal to him. In the least.
It's the morning after a night of coladapins, which means that there is probably no way I could even try to explain the conversation (or lack there of) I had with him while I was sobbing hysterically, sometimes in his arms, sometimes as far away from him as I could possibly get.
I had spent the entire drive home waiting to be held in his embrace. I wanted to love him. I loved the people I was with more than anything in the world.... but I wanted to be with him more. It was incredibly bizarre; like I had just been weaned fcrom something I wasn't ready to be separated from.
Girlfriends. I have very few of them. The few I had complained that I spent too much time with Alex, and although I could agree, I couldn't find any desire to motivate myself to see him any less. I laughed off their joked and played along with them until there I was... in the middle of a field in a small town outside of Vergennes... without him.
I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I had wanted to go home on the drive here (wherever we were) and I wanted to go home now. We had hauled a good 40 minutes away from the only place I wanted to be, and there was much to be done with my passengers from now until the point I actually got to be with him again. I had to count the seconds.
When I finally returned to him, I felt like I had gone to the far ends of the earth and back, and I was there in front of him, waiting for him to jump on top of me and welcome me in his long and boney arms. He didn't.
This served as nothing but the cherry on top of the massive dirt pie I had been creating throughout the course of this past week. I didn't realize how stressed I had been until I was allowing my thoughts to smear the dirt pie in my face and lather it around like I was on some game show that revolved around whipped cream pies. Only mine was dirt, mud, and the worms of maggots of high school.
I don't remember falling asleep, and I especially don't have any recollection at all of him getting up at 5AM and leaving for work. I must have slept through it. Usually I'm awake to see him go, and I can give him a goodbye kiss or something of the sort. But this morning I woke up, expecting him to be there when I turned around. I was expecting to be held for another five or ten minutes before my alarm went off and I'd have to get up and get ready to go to school. I expected the pretty face of the most amazing boy I've ever known to be lying there with his eyes closed and a slight snore coming from his nostrils. I was sadly disappointed. In fact, I was devastated that I was alone. I felt somewhat like my bedroom was some random field that was misplaced in a small town outside of Vergennes, and I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home and be held in his arms.