Teenage Babble

A Story by Shane Rendon

A beautiful East Texas prom was steadily melting to an end. The lights came back on, and we were the only two still dancing. An old country love song set a moving, and almost too romantic atmosphere, and there I was, screaming directly in her face, yet somehow we managed to continued dancing. I had never been so confused. I wasn't exactly angry, but her harsh accusations set my thoughts on fire. I didn't believe I had done any thing wrong; I remember that much, but I don't exactly remember what the argument was about. I could feel my face glowing red with intensity as I spat out s**t I didn't mean. There was a crowd of teenagers moving past us, all the while pretending to ignore our pointless screams as they drizzled out the door of our over-decorated high school gym. The gym was a wreck. Ripped decorations constructed from paper and cardboard were sagging limply from the ceiling, and scarping gently against the rubbery gym floor. "This is f*****g pointless" I aggressively assured her. Silence. Tears were streaming down her face. They caressed the soft white skin of her cheeks, then tumbled off the end of her chin. I was so ashamed of myself. I had never raised my voice to her. Somehow I wanted to believe I was relieved, but I wasn't by any means. I was utterly ashamed that I could ever cause such a beautiful creature pain. Now she had seen every side of me, even this new side that I didn't even know existed. In reality I guess thats what love is. Knowing everything there is to know about someone, and allowing passion to let you accept there faults. If I'm correct, I loved her. With every part of me I loved, and still love, everything about that girl. After prom we stayed at her house. The limo ride back was lovely, either we had gotten over our differences, or we were doing a damn good job pretending we had. We were not alone, so we very well could have been putting on a show, but I don't remember. We didn't sleep together that night, I laid alone almost in tears in the same bed where we usually consummated our assumed love, and she slept in the living room with a horde of her teenage girlfriends. Late in the night I felt the bed move. I didn't open my eyes, but I could tell by the smell it was her. She crawled into bed, and nudged her way between my chin and my knees. She always fit so perfectly there. With her back against my chest I felt every breath she made gently force itself from her chest to my own. This continued breathing pattern accompanied by her dependant sighs, gently sang me into a completely blissful sleep. Sleep, what a beautiful word. Bliss, twice the word. The combination... extacy, and extacy is Heaven, and Heaven is not being alive at all, but instead completely separate from the the rest of the world in a completely peaceful empty existence. I was there; only my existence wasn't empty. She was there, sharing my space, my energy, my peace, and it was real. Reality is hart to find in your typical teenage sob story, but every now and then you'll feel an emotion that is so natural that you barely notice it, and thats reality spraying Fabrease on your piss stained carpet.