A/N: This isn't my usual style. I'm not really sure what it is, to be honest. I was trying to deal with something and this is the result. Sorry for any unnecessary details. R&R me, I'll R&R you. Keep writing. -Pammy
I've been having one of those weeks,
where I feel all the pressure contained in the world
repackaged into my muscles.
I've been hearing about college-level self-help,
where bottles and kegs create solid (liquid) layers over
wounded hearts and unfair tests.
I won't even have that first drink because I hate Statistics, and the only thing worse
than taking it would be becoming one.
Right? But everyone needs help...
So I give five dollars and she hands me
one of those red cups that is symbolic of
the Typical College Scene, many a Facebook picture,
and one too many mistakes.
He introduces himself, offers to get me punch,
and since I haven't had any yet I decide it's fine.
Somewhere between my first sip and stumbling home
his hands and his lips take on the weight and the pressure I've been keeping.
My mind jumps around landing on something about
Statistics and how much I hate it but I like him.
I'm taking in every word, every scent.
I feel only slightly in over my head.
But that's what college is for, right?
Figuring yourself out?
I try to tell him what's on my mind,
his cigarette-flavored mouth gets in the way.
"It's okay. I know. But that's why we have each other"
As though he's known me for years, but it's what I want to hear.
"Yea. I guess" Hands are moving, should I control where they're going?
I move, maybe the wrong way.
He moves, he steers me the wrong way.
I'm trying to think how to get out,
the best way to stop is never to start,
but we started and he doesn't want to stop.
The scary question pops up again-
Is this really what college is all about?-
on top of -I have never gone this far with someone I cared about-
and suddenly I'm worthless, again, but maybe I'm worth something
if I stay in his hands...
My brain is fuzzy now, the pictures not so clear.
I want to leave, but I can't remember how or why,
I'm glad I'm still self-aware, but not as glad as I am scared.
My phone goes off ,relief, "Hello?"
My friends are at the door,
telling me it's time to find my way home.
He never found the time to see if I got there.