For the record, this actually never happened to me. For those who know me and wondering if it did, that is.

Enjoy

“You know, I was perfectly fine before you came along.”

He nods, looking at his hands. He’s not used to this. He’s not used to girls, or even me yet. The boy’s so easy to read, so easy to figure out what’s going on inside that head of his. He won’t look up at me. He won’t look up at me until it’s over. I don’t think he’ll say anything either. Just nod and stare off somewhere until I’m done. Good. I have a lot to tell.

“I had my writing. I had my books. I had my stories. I didn’t need anything or anybody else. This summer was supposed to help me get over some other kid. And it was helping me. A lot. I’ve never felt better.”

I’m being cruel. I really am. I can’t help it. Nor do I feel the need to stop myself. He needs to know. He deserves to know. This boy should know what kind of girl he’s going for, what kind of girl he is spending his hours with. What kind of girl he makes a forty-minute goddamn train ride for. I’m doing him a favor. If he leaves now, it’ll only do him good.

“I don’t even like liking guys. I hate it. I can’t stand it. Do you know what it’s like to have your mind infested with all these thoughts about one person? And this one person, not anyone else in the world, not my stories, can solely make me feel happy? It’s horrible, I hate it! I hate depending on someone else for it. I don’t need anyone else in this world.”

He knows it’s coming. So do I.

“I don’t need you.”

He sighs. So do I.

But then he does something I was not expecting. We’re sitting here, alone in a blanket of black upon a solitary bench in the park. The park has emptied hours ago and invited thousands of guests onto its premises. These guests glitter in the night sky as our breaths draw upon a cloud of white. As we’re sitting side by side on a bench when he puts an arm around me and pulls me close.

My breathing quickens and now it’s I who don’t look at him. The heart has gone into panic mode as my world collapses, the blood flaring through my veins like bolts of lightening. What is he doing?

“I love you.” He says.

It’s silent now. Just the soft chirp of the crickets in the autumn wind and the rustling of fallen leaves against the hardened blades of grass fill the air with their song. I don’t say a word, he doesn’t say a word. It’s just us now. It’s just the memory of three words before.

I finally muster up the courage and the sanity to look him the eye. I can feel the barriers returning, its cold glare preparing the weapons of mass destruction.

“You know, I still resent you. Especially for butting into my life. You really screwed up everything I worked so hard to build.”

“I know.”

I didn’t.

We gave the minutes to the crickets and the leaves again. Only four.

“Thank you.”

I look him the eye when I tell him that. They’re green. Different than past boys of blue and brown. Different from the arrogant and cocky smirks and attitudes I loved and still probably did. Different from the assertive, confident, and witty young men of the past.

But green was so beautiful.

I let my head rest on his shoulder. I clung onto him like a small child and closed my eyes.

Maybe I don’t really know everything.