t o o p e r f e c t t o l a s t
-another moment gone-
You're a pretty perceptive kind of person. You notice basically everything in sight; the change in one's mood, the shift of intenseness or the uncomfortable silences.
But you never saw her coming.
You pretend to not be listening, acting nonchalant and detached in the most ADHD possible way. She'll be talking animatedly about doing something childish and you'll just look ahead and pretend to be bored.
Bored was the last adjective you would ever use when you were with her.
You pretended not to listen on her bizarre conversations, sometimes consisting of not shaving for weeks—what a turn off, you'd role your eyes and feign interest in your friends' conversations about how hot some other girl was.
You and her begin a relationship of taking walks and you knew you wouldn't hold up long until you would be liking her all over again.
The walks became an abyss of emotions.
As well as a routine that seemed so real.
You were a little surprised that this so seemingly so innocent girl, shy almost, grabs your hand and blushes when you look at her. She imitates you constantly and you can't help but let loose a smile. And before you know it, laughter becomes a habit—and so does holding her sweaty hands.
Your hands are always cold, but hers, no, hers are warm—sweaty—and warm yours up. Your hands intertwined fit perfectly and you're not sure why.
And that bothers you slightly.
You like control.
It doesn't surprise you when you begins to want to kiss you, so she tells you many times when you two text.
The days seem like mantras until right after your sports, you guys sneak off and go into the dense woods and really start living.
You don't fall for girls.
Especially girls like her.
When the kiss happens, it almost seems impossible. Like it didn't happen, and it felt like your first all over again. It was her first kiss—you knew she would never forget your name now, and maybe that's why it felt good to know you were in her heart somewhere for the rest of her life.
Maybe that's part of the invisible attached strings that you cut loose every time things become too meaningful.
She missed your lips and that made your laugh because she was so humiliated yet proud to be able to say she kissed you.
You kissed her a second time and you watched as her lids closed and everything fell in place.
You wouldn't admit it willingly, but it made you jealous to know she might sneak out with some asshole who just wanted to get in her pants. You warned her, and yet, she didn't seem to be bothered.
"I trust him." She'd tell you, rolling her brown eyes.
You would scoff and the subject would change.
Kisses became a treat almost. A reward?
She caught you by surprise once, and if you only knew what went on through her mind for the following weeks.
The kisses rang through your mind but you didn't want to be tied down still.
Your favorite moment was holding her in your arms, her head resting on your chest and your head on her neck. She would lean into you and both of your lids would close and the world would just stop spinning for that very moment.
Your thoughts were becoming gay.
And you, do not go soft for a girl.
So because the only thing that seems easiest, you begin to push her around and treat her meanly.
But at the end of the day, you would tell her "sorry baby," and the cycle would start all over again.
You enjoyed your walks with her on occasion, and your heart would race a little faster. And your happiness became palpable almost.
She was changing you.
And you weren't sure how to feel about that.
Fights over becoming something more were shot more often and you were tired of telling her the truth.
She wanted to become official, and being official wasn't something in your mind. Because if you were tied down—when would there be time to hit on other girls and meet new people without them knowing you're taken? Commitment wasn't your strongest point.
And just like everything else you were accustomed to; you ended it. You ran.
So you told her what she attempted—and failed many times—to do: you told her you were done.
She had told you many goodbyes and each time it meant less because you knew she needed you more than life itself it seemed.
You had not a clue how she reacted.
The walks lessened as the trees became a grassy green.
You were so used to being able to look over in her direction and catch her staring at you—it made your feel good—and when her glances shifted into nothing; you knew she was tired of these games.
You could see the way she would laugh and smile and just be herself with all her friends circling her. But in midst of all the chatter and smiles and happiness, she'd stare down at her feet, her lids tired and puffy and you'd notice the way she would sigh and smile too hard when one of her friends asked her if she was okay.
You really hate to admit it but you couldn't see the excitement and sparks in her eyes anymore. A sullen brown.
You weren't sure how to feel about that either, so you just pretended to not notice.
She might've been just another girl that happened to walk in your life and make you a different person; or nothing changed at all, but only deep down inside of you—you knew she did make a difference, and you couldn't possibly forget every moment you've shared with her.
She doubted your emotions for her.
And you would tell her every day you like her.
And each day after the next, the routine happened until finally, she seemed confident you did like her… and at that point, you weren't sure of your feelings anymore.
You won't admit it, but you enjoyed kissing her more than anyone else because a kiss from someone so innocent meant more than a hookup with a stranger.
You won't admit that holding her hand was natural like breathing and you didn't want to ever lose her.
You won't admit it but you wanted to have her and another girl.
You're ashamed, but won't admit out loud, but you weren't sure if you really even liked her anymore but the idea of her liking you and dealing with your bullshit lies seemed to be appealing and knowing she wouldn't walk out on you seemed perfect.
You won't admit it but you didn't want you and her to end. But she had always had a point: take me as I am, or watch me leave.
You chose to watch her leave your arms because that's the only thing you knew how to react with: indifference. Ignorance. Boredom. Carelessness. Untouchable.
You won't admit that you know exactly what you did to her:
You broke her.
And she paints a pretty illusion that gives nothing away.
And despite your cocky remarks to all your friends, you know exactly what you hate to admit from the bottom of your cold heart:
You miss her.
But maybe she'll realize that the truth is:
You two were too perfect to last.
Fin.
-Review.