[fiction]
Read, respond, don't respond. Critique, don't say a thing, what ever. Just read.
The tension is immense. We’ve both been waiting for this day for over a month and now its finally here. The morning is spent getting clean and dressing up, even though I know it doesn’t really matter. The clock seems to go so slue that it makes me wonder if I need to change the batteries. Eventually the hands reach one o’clock and I lace up my freshly polished boots and comb my hair one last time, then start the walk to where we’re going to meet- a small sushi place near the beach.
Salt air fills my nostrils as I open the seventies style aluminum framed door to the restaurant. There she is. Just as truly and honestly beautiful as I remembered. Lunch is spent with grins plastered across our faces; pouring out every detail we’ve missed of each other’s life over the past month. I pay the bill and make sure to leave a healthy sized tip for the waitress.
We walk to her house, still talking nonstop. When we get there, no one is home. That makes it harder to lie about what we’ve both been waiting for. We try to pretend that we just went there to talk and relax, but that act doesn’t last long. Soon her soft, full lips are on mine, my arms pulling her body against mine. Time doesn’t seem to matter anymore, everything is in the moment. Soon, like birds instinctually flying south for the winter, we move to her bedroom. First her shirt comes off. Then mine does. Her bra’s unclasped and slipped away. Not too long after, my jeans find a resting place on her messy bedroom floor.
We’re both caught up in the passion of the moment, but for some reason my mind takes a break and stops to think for just a moment, but a moment is all that it takes. Before I can even catch myself, my mouth lets out the first serious words that have been said in who knows how long, “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
We dress in silence, then she walks me to the door. She tries to tell me that she understands, but the look on her face betrays her words. I leave. I stop at the very first payphone I see, dig through my pockets for some loose change, and dial a friend I’ve known since first grade and explain it all. He says that its okay and that there’s nothing wrong with that. We start talking about those elementary school days when we all were so innocent and living just because we could and it was fun. A smile comes across my face once again, and some how it had made it through my thick skull that yah, it really is okay.
The tension is immense. We’ve both been waiting for this day for over a month and now its finally here. The morning is spent getting clean and dressing up, even though I know it doesn’t really matter. The clock seems to go so slue that it makes me wonder if I need to change the batteries. Eventually the hands reach one o’clock and I lace up my freshly polished boots and comb my hair one last time, then start the walk to where we’re going to meet- a small sushi place near the beach.
Salt air fills my nostrils as I open the seventies style aluminum framed door to the restaurant. There she is. Just as truly and honestly beautiful as I remembered. Lunch is spent with grins plastered across our faces; pouring out every detail we’ve missed of each other’s life over the past month. I pay the bill and make sure to leave a healthy sized tip for the waitress.
We walk to her house, still talking nonstop. When we get there, no one is home. That makes it harder to lie about what we’ve both been waiting for. We try to pretend that we just went there to talk and relax, but that act doesn’t last long. Soon her soft, full lips are on mine, my arms pulling her body against mine. Time doesn’t seem to matter anymore, everything is in the moment. Soon, like birds instinctually flying south for the winter, we move to her bedroom. First her shirt comes off. Then mine does. Her bra’s unclasped and slipped away. Not too long after, my jeans find a resting place on her messy bedroom floor.
We’re both caught up in the passion of the moment, but for some reason my mind takes a break and stops to think for just a moment, but a moment is all that it takes. Before I can even catch myself, my mouth lets out the first serious words that have been said in who knows how long, “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
We dress in silence, then she walks me to the door. She tries to tell me that she understands, but the look on her face betrays her words. I leave. I stop at the very first payphone I see, dig through my pockets for some loose change, and dial a friend I’ve known since first grade and explain it all. He says that its okay and that there’s nothing wrong with that. We start talking about those elementary school days when we all were so innocent and living just because we could and it was fun. A smile comes across my face once again, and some how it had made it through my thick skull that yah, it really is okay.