In Her Mind

I play conversations in my own mind, trying to find a better way out of the loop.

Silence. 

She was driving home at night with him sitting beside her. The radio was turned off, and only the engine's sounds could be heard as she steps on the pedals. Halfway through the ride, he asks in a soft voice, "So, how was it?"

Her mind had been filled with mixed up scenes on how to start the conversation, how to act next, how to be herself without making a mistake. She heard him, but she could not answer immediately. She did not know how to answer even though she knew her own opinion of the show they just watched. 

"What?" She asked. 

"The show...?" He responded. 

"Well... I liked it, it was good." In fact, if it were not for the mixed emotions that she currently had, she would have enjoyed a thorough conversation of it. She would have mentioned her amusement when one of the actresses accidentally entered the wrong act, but made it seem as though it was part of the plan. She would have pointed out her favorite number and so would he. But instead, she thought about her emotions. She thought maybe she can avoid being dramatic, but she wanted the drama. She wanted to cry there and then, but she remembered someone tell her that it was not good to cry while driving. And where would the conversation lead to again if she did? She held it back as much as she can. After a few seconds she added, "What about you?" 

He stayed still and continued to watch the road. "It was nice."

A few more seconds, or minutes, seemed to pass before he asked again, "Oh, so how are your requirements now?" 

She really just did not want to answer and would rather sulk. Her mind was still not at ease. She wanted to be honest so she could feel better, but being honest would mean bringing out emotions he might be tired to see. She forced herself to think of the reply, but upset he doesn't seem to notice her overwhelming thoughts. How could he? They were in her head. "I still have to cram marketing for tomorrow." 

"Oh okay, you should rest soon then so you can work on it right away," He said. And after that, silence followed again for the rest of the trip home. Whenever she had the chance, she would glance at him hoping he would look at her, and just speak thoughtful and sweet words. She wished he looked at her again like he once did before. She pretended not to see him smile when she passed by, and she felt wanted. She wanted to feel that way... but it was selfish, she thought. Why doesn't she feel like she was wanted? 

When they arrived home, there was no exchange of words really. They simply sat on the couch. Though he began to feel he had to leave by the way she was acting. And so he got up and prepared his things. He said, "Bye." 

She tried to smile and whispered "Bye." And then he was gone. 

She wanted to say "please stay", but she would only feel that he did not really want to. She wanted to ask "Do you love me?" To which he would reply yes, but it would not feel satisfying enough because she had to ask. Instead, she closed the door and sighed. She thought she was selfish, but she did not know how to be otherwise. All she knew to do was to keep it to herself. 

Author's Note

I wrote this at 1AM, so I might have had a lot of grammar problems. This is really for writing down my tired thoughts.