literature

August 5 2009

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Literature Text

August 5, 2009 12:22 AM
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I hate being 17.

I hate being 17 and female.

I hate being 17, female, and extremely hormonal and developing feelings for every guy that I meet. Really.


It's all just a worthless attempt. Every guy that I've met and liked after and even before Dylan has been just a waste. They don't like me, they end up being ass holes, I lose touch with them, etc. Every time.

And this time, I feel like it's a waste, also.

I'm not ready for another online relationship. Ever. I'm done with those. I did it once, it ended badly, and the fear of it happening again is what's keeping me from doing it again. And not just that, it's the fact that you really don't know who you're talking to. I'm finally taking my dad's words and trusting that you really can be anyone you want to on the internet. So why date some imaginary person? And, I am so ready for a real boyfriend.

A real partner, we'll say, that I can touch. Feel. Be with. Hold. Kiss. See.

A real partner that I can walk with, and then sit in the parking lot of Baskin Robins and just wrap my arms around and tell him how much I love him.

A real partner that I can physically show to my family, and they can finally accept him and talk to him and get to know him, so I don't have to hide it anymore.

A real partner that can come to my house when I'm sick, kiss my forehead and tell me everything will be alright. And hold me when I'm cold. And hold my hand when I want it to be held. And lay on my bed and talk about random nothings, and just everything that a normal couple does.

I want that.

I am ready for that.

But, enough of my random blubbering about shit. I want to write.
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I sat alone on my backyard patio, feeling the cool breeze blow through my hair. I never do this, not at 1:30 in the morning. But I wanted to get out, be free from my inside-only lifestyle that I was starting to live recently. The air was fresh out here, fresher than it usually is in this muggy suburb of Detroit. It was relaxing, crisp. And with the rustling of the leaves from the trees and the crickets singing delightfully, I felt more like I was in a tiny, personal paradise rather than my backyard.

My eyes were particularly fixed on the moon; whole, bright, but not as bright as it could be, a slight haze was making it blur just a bit and giving it an almost off-white color, and it's outer rings of light didn't extend as much as they should. Even though it wasn't at it's best, it was still just breathtakingly beautiful. Little bits of very low clouds passed by it quickly, being pushed by the constant, mildly impatient wind that was blowing through. They just came to admire its beauty, then fled with the breeze.

I closed my eyes to stop the jealousy towards the little white planet and laid my head back against the green folding chair I sat in. I could fall asleep right here, and be perfectly content with it. At this point in time, I didn't care about the bugs, or my potentially dangerous neighbors, or anybody or anything. I cared about this moment right here. I cared about the now. For once, I wasn't scared, I wasn't over-thinking anything, I wasn't caring about so many things. I was just accepting that they were there, and forgetting about them. I was content where I was, and I wanted to keep it that way.

There was a slight rustle in the tree that rested against the eight-foot wall that was about thirty feet from where I lied. I opened my eyes, and was instantly startled to find that someone was climbing over that wall and into my backyard. But trying not to get too worried, I spoke.

"Hello?"

They froze when they were sitting on top of the wall. I could hear them, exhausted, breathing heavily from the strain of climbing up the impossible-to-climb wall.

"Jenny?"

I smiled.

"Come on down here, you ass."

It was him. Not the person I would've expected to climb over my wall at one-thirty in the morning, but I'll take it anyways.

I heard a dull thud as he jumped off and landed on the ground, and crunching as he stepped on twigs, making his way towards me. The faint light that poured out of my garage door slightly hit his adorable face, and I instantly smiled larger.

"Why are you back here?" He asked me.

"Well," I started, "one, I'm allowed to be back here. It's my yard." He sat down next to me on the seat of the picnic table, sighing deeply. "Two, I wanted to. It's a nice night. Just wanted to sit out here and chill for a little bit."

He laughed softly. "Interesting. I didn't know that you would be one to endure the moths, spider, june bugs and everything else that lurks out here at this time."

"Either did I." I grinned and giggled quietly, turning my head away from him to look back at the moon. "So what brought you here, if you don't mind me asking?"

He was quiet for a moment before he said anything.

"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?"

I turned back to look at him, even thought I couldn't see much of him at all through the darkness. "What is?"

"The moon. How it looks like it's trying to hide it's beauty from the fog, almost like it's embarrassed to show it's true self when it's fully out there like that." His eyes were fixed on it now, also watching the clouds that rolled by it swiftly.

I smiled. "Yeah, that does look like what it's trying to do."

"Reminds me of someone I know."

I looked at him, confused. We were friends. We've always been just friends. Casual talking friends, joking around buddies, being playfully rough with each other and making fun of each other for silliness. I had never heard anything like this come out of his mouth before. Never nothing this serious, or meaningful, or heartfelt. Not to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"You know what I mean." We both paused, looking at each other, my look filled with confusion and incomprehension, his filled with something I couldn't even identify.

"Jenny," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I've been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I never could. We were too good of friends, and I thought that it was just a dumb emotion that I felt like usual teenagers do, but it never went away. Every day that I've spent with you, it's grown like nothing I've ever experienced before, and I know now what it is."

I wanted to say something, to interrupt him from speaking, but I couldn't. It seemed as though my voice had disappeared, like I couldn't speak no matter how hard I tried, almost like those dreams you have when you try screaming but nothing comes out.

This seemed like a dream to me.

"Jenny, you and I..." He stopped, looking away, down towards the ground, but then his eyes went back up to the moon that shone its dim light down upon us both. And almost as if the moon's light gave him the confidence to speak, he continued.

"You and I belong together."

I, too, looked back up at the full, white, dim moon hiding behind a thin cover of haze, trying to find confidence to speak. It didn't give me words to say, though. It gave me the confidence to reach my hand down to his, and to grab it ever so softly, to hold it. I turned back to him, and it was the most perfect moment; the haze that shrouded the moon had cleared, and it shone at its brightest down upon us, and I could see him looking into my eyes just as I was his, his hand safely locked in mine. I smiled, and shortly after, so did he.

"We do belong together," I concluded, turning back to the moon one last time, thanking it silently for its contribution. The breeze blew on, as time passed slowly, and we stayed in that moment for a while.
Another rambling, along with a little gem of writing that I threw in there. I was inspired.

And don't ask me who 'he' is.

Because I don't even know.
© 2009 - 2024 Sum41luvr224
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Amaralyn's avatar
It's so beautiful ans sweet.. :heart:

:hug: