Late Night Loneliness
I lay quietly on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, occasionally closing my eyes to let out a soft moan. It was the only sound I was making. I held tightly within my left hand, a small teddy bear that was given to me at the tender age of thirteen. Here I was, about to turn 19, a high school graduate, and still clinging to a teddy bear the person who gave it to me had affectionately named Scooter. Why am I so lame? I thought bitterly to myself. My right hand gently stroked my womanhood, daydreaming about that beautiful blonde.
I had been in love with Stacey since we were thirteen. The baby sitters club gave me an opportunity to get to know the stuck-up, girly, ditzy, adorable girl I now know as the “one that got away.” We were wary of each other from the beginning, but after many hours of babysitting together, I knew that we were meant to be more than just good friends. At least I thought so. The closeness of our group often was misconstrued as being a little too much for most of our classmates, but Stacey seemed to remain popular even though she hung with the diverse group that was the BSC. She sometimes had to turn up her nose at our president’s tomboy antics, but laughed along with us at sleepovers and was as loyal as we could have ever asked for. It was at one of those sleepovers, after a particularly rowdy night at the town fair, when Stacey gave me the teddy bear she won playing a balloon popping game, telling me that as long as I had it, we would always be close.
Stacey always had a sweet side that sometimes I felt only I could see. The way she cared for little kids was amazing. She had way more patience than I ever could have dreamed of. She was always smart, and when she laughed, I loved to watch the way her shoulders shook gently as her head tilted back. She poked the most fun at Claudia, her best friend back then, but it was always good natured. They always seemed to have a secret code that only they could speak, even if it was just a look in each other’s direction. I always wanted that connection with her.
Throughout high school, I became more popular and had somehow immersed myself into the jock and cheerleader world. I was into the partying, so I constantly would see Stacey out with our group. Sometimes I brought my step-sister along, but she was never that into the party scene. Stacey, Mary Anne and I would hide in the corners at parties and giggle as we sipped the alcoholic beverages we were definitely too young to be consuming. I would often use those opportunities to snuggle up to Stacey or cuddle with her on the couch. Occasionally, we would make out for some of the horny football players, and Stacey would always instigate it, usually to get a rise out of the room. I savored those moments when our tongues combined and we were finally together, if only in my mind.
That is probably why I was still laying there, satisfying myself as I listened quietly to the on-goings in the next bedroom. I could hear Mary Anne giggling softly, occasionally followed by a moan. It was only a few weeks before at our high school graduation party, when Stacey and Mary Anne came out to everyone that they were together and completely in love. My heart broke at that moment. I had not spoken more than two words to Mary Anne since that day, and only said hello to Stacey once. But there I was, moaning in sync with my step-sister, daydreaming about the blonde who was making love to her, pretending it was me instead of Mary Anne. I knew at that moment that I would not ever love anyone as much as I loved Stacey McGill. She would be family, but only I would ever know the truth about who she should truly be with.
Why will I never be good enough? I thought to myself before slipping off to the bathroom to relieve the tension running through my veins with a short razor blade that had become my new best friend.
I had been in love with Stacey since we were thirteen. The baby sitters club gave me an opportunity to get to know the stuck-up, girly, ditzy, adorable girl I now know as the “one that got away.” We were wary of each other from the beginning, but after many hours of babysitting together, I knew that we were meant to be more than just good friends. At least I thought so. The closeness of our group often was misconstrued as being a little too much for most of our classmates, but Stacey seemed to remain popular even though she hung with the diverse group that was the BSC. She sometimes had to turn up her nose at our president’s tomboy antics, but laughed along with us at sleepovers and was as loyal as we could have ever asked for. It was at one of those sleepovers, after a particularly rowdy night at the town fair, when Stacey gave me the teddy bear she won playing a balloon popping game, telling me that as long as I had it, we would always be close.
Stacey always had a sweet side that sometimes I felt only I could see. The way she cared for little kids was amazing. She had way more patience than I ever could have dreamed of. She was always smart, and when she laughed, I loved to watch the way her shoulders shook gently as her head tilted back. She poked the most fun at Claudia, her best friend back then, but it was always good natured. They always seemed to have a secret code that only they could speak, even if it was just a look in each other’s direction. I always wanted that connection with her.
Throughout high school, I became more popular and had somehow immersed myself into the jock and cheerleader world. I was into the partying, so I constantly would see Stacey out with our group. Sometimes I brought my step-sister along, but she was never that into the party scene. Stacey, Mary Anne and I would hide in the corners at parties and giggle as we sipped the alcoholic beverages we were definitely too young to be consuming. I would often use those opportunities to snuggle up to Stacey or cuddle with her on the couch. Occasionally, we would make out for some of the horny football players, and Stacey would always instigate it, usually to get a rise out of the room. I savored those moments when our tongues combined and we were finally together, if only in my mind.
That is probably why I was still laying there, satisfying myself as I listened quietly to the on-goings in the next bedroom. I could hear Mary Anne giggling softly, occasionally followed by a moan. It was only a few weeks before at our high school graduation party, when Stacey and Mary Anne came out to everyone that they were together and completely in love. My heart broke at that moment. I had not spoken more than two words to Mary Anne since that day, and only said hello to Stacey once. But there I was, moaning in sync with my step-sister, daydreaming about the blonde who was making love to her, pretending it was me instead of Mary Anne. I knew at that moment that I would not ever love anyone as much as I loved Stacey McGill. She would be family, but only I would ever know the truth about who she should truly be with.
Why will I never be good enough? I thought to myself before slipping off to the bathroom to relieve the tension running through my veins with a short razor blade that had become my new best friend.