Gone

Written May 2008 for a creative writing elective.

Juliet is sitting at a desk, typing on a laptop. I think that the first time I saw you I was gone. I have always had a sort of weakness for girls, especially ones taller than me, and you were hardly different, standing lost and desperate in the hallway with people flowing past you, pretending you weren’t there.  I noticed you, though, and for whatever reason I decided to admit you were there and go up and talk to you.  Turned out to be a good choice, because it was your first day and you had no idea what you were doing.  You called me your hero and smiled at me, and you didn’t notice, but my heart started beating a little faster and my words came a little slower. That was the day I started really listening to my iPod, hoping to catch a line, a lyric that reminded me of you and how I felt.  Even though it had only been a day, I was head over heels for you, or at least I was very infatuated, because I am the kind of person who does that—fall for someone she barely knows and snap out of it within the week. I didn’t.  The more I got to know you, the more this infatuation turned into real liking and friendship, and by the end of September I had a full-blown crush.  It was the kind strong enough to make most girls silly and ditzy, but I tried my hardest to not be that way.  I wanted you to like me.  I still do—but now in a different way. Which leads me to my point. “Is she or isn’t she”? Are you or aren’t you, Amanda? You’ve never told me about liking anyone in eight months of friendship, or even about boyfriends (or girlfriends) back in your hometown.  You talk about people named Mila, Rae, and Copper, and you sound a little reverent of Rae, but I can’t tell exactly how you felt—or still feel, if I am truly unlucky—about her.  I can’t ask.  You’re the kind of girl who would tell me, whether it was true or not, that she was just your best friend and what did I mean by my question? You know the gender I prefer, and you would wonder—but never ask—if I was asking because I was jealous, because I like you, because a thousand things that I can’t be bothered to think up. But…that’s exactly why I would ask.  I am jealous of your friendship with Rae.  I do like you.  And there are a thousand reasons I could ask you a question like that but I am not going to think of them all; just be satisfied that you’re worth a thousand and two reasons. I’m still deciding whether or not to print this out and give it to you.  That’s opening myself up too much for hurt and I don’t want to lose your friendship if the answer is “I’m straight” or “I’m lesbian or bisexual but I don’t feel the same”.  That would be worse than anything, and I know it would make things awkward between us, even if you pretended nothing had happened—because I couldn’t pretend nothing happened. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you how I feel about you, Amanda, but this is my way of trying to try. (pause) I just remembered how you sit next to me in math.  I think we sit too close, because sometimes your foot ends up on my chair and your leg presses against mine—not on purpose, I’m sure.  But it presses against mine and I feel…my stomach drops.  I feel too nervous for “only friends”.  I want you to feel that nervousness for the reason I feel the nervousness.  I also want you to be able to tell me that you do, but I know that that isn’t going to happen, no matter how many stars I wish on. Do you wish on any stars, Amanda? Do you wish on stars or do you wish on clocks or on folded potato chips? And when you wish, what do you wish for? I hope you wish for me.

 

Reviews

[Brittany]

I like it :) It's awesomely awesome