I'm not entirely sure where the inspiration for this came from. But, I'm glad it did. It killed a good half an hour, and I'm sort of proud of it. I wish it would be hung on the fridge for the world to see.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sorry.
CAITLYN'S INNER MOST THOUGHTS INTO HER JOURNAL
You know how when you're younger everything you do in school gets a pretty gold star, and hung on the fridge for the world to see. You're reminded of your accomplishment every time you get some cookies, a glass of orange juice, the brown paper bag packed with your lunch, even when you eat dinner. Your piece of work is displayed, and everyone is proud of it. Including you.
As you get older, less and less gets put on the fridge. After all, no one really wanted to see your comparison of your life to Anne Frank's, or Salvador Dali piece you had to recreate. Not even you want that term paper about the Holocaust hung up, or the science test you got a D- on.
When you're younger, you were a little embarrassed to have your water colored picture hung up. Even though it might have been the absolute best water coloring anyone in your kindergarten class could have done. You're parents hung it up anyway, and showed everyone who ever dared to come over. When you get a little older, your parents make you hang up your letter from Winnie to Tuck. You fake embarrassment because you don't want to look cocky. In reality, you are so proud to have it up there. Once you reach high school, you're parents don't want to hang anything. Plus, the magnets probably won't hold your seven page analysis of The Lord of the Flies. You worked so hard on that analysis. You want it hung up. You want people to see your accomplishments. It's funny how time changes everything.
You're finest piece of work, the ones you're most proud of, come straight from the heart, and you're afraid to show your parents. You might even be apprehensive to show your friends. It just shows how much your life is messed up. That's what the book hidden between your box spring and mattress is for. It is a compilation of everything you've ever been proud of. Every strong emotion you've had scrawled on the slightly discolored paper.
The Way Everything Happened
Caitlin Gellar
The same voice that used to be your lullaby,
Now haunts every moment of your life.
His voice is everywhere;
In your head, on the radio, in your nightmares.
You used to adore running your fingers
Through his perfect bed head curls.
Now, those seeing that chocolate colored hair
Make you want to run away from here.
Those magazine covers with his perfect little face,
His chocolate brown eyes piercing right through the paper,
And crooked smile bring back the memories.
The horrible memories.
The regrets of even meeting him.
He fixed a lot of pain when he was around,
But now he's causing more than you ever needed.
"I'll never hurt you."
Those words from his faultless mouth…
B U L L S H I T .
But, it sounded so good in the moment.
Even if it was just a trick to get you into bed.
You should have listened to everyone around you.
There was no way a teenage boy could refrain from sex.
That stupid ring was covering all of the lies.
It was a huge masquerade, a huge lie.
Everyone fell for it.
Including you.
You thought it would be the one boy who
Wouldn't ask you out just for a booty call.
He seemed real, sincere, caring.
A L L L I E S .
You fell for the simple trick.
He said,
"I love you."
You said it back.
You were too young to even realize what love was.
Now, you can pay for it.
You gave your first time away to a boy who
Doesn't even care about you now.
Not that he ever really did.
And, you know what love is now.
And, you still love him.
It's as simple as that.
But, to him, you are just
Another addition to his
Girls I Fucked Gallery.
Now, I wish that could be posted on our kitchen fridge. He comes over every Friday to check in with his manager, my dad. Sometimes he comes over even more often than that. Each time he does, he greets me like nothing has happened. He smiles, and gives me a quick hug, maybe even a kiss on the cheek. I shy away from him as often as possible. My mother believes we should all be good hosts, so I am not allowed to just hide out in my room.
It's another dreary Friday night. Tonight it's not just a check in session, which last at least an hour anyway, it's a complete three course dinner meal with his brothers and my family. I really hope Mitchie comes over with Shane. Otherwise, I will not be surviving Friday night dinner with the boy who stole my heart, virginity, and then threw it all to the wind. I was just another game to him. Just another accomplishment in his book.
Reviews are appreciated, but never required. But, if you are going to favorite this story, just leave a reason why. Or I will hunt you down and ask you why you did. I know where you live. ;)