There is a small part of me (and I mean a part that is so teeny-tiny you can't even see it) that believes or maybe now it's believed?, that the Clark Kent before me, who calls himself a man when he's still very much a boy, was the one.
And what came along with that small little thought was notions like puppy-dog love, written in the stars and but of course soul mate, but all I really got out of it was heartbreak.
(heartbreak that still stings, not all of it is put back together again even after months away from the key source, who has yet to offer a hand at fixing it)
"I missed you, Lois, I'm glad your back."
The bad thing about this lovely sentiment is the fact that Clark has never been a good lier (which is what he is doing 50 percent of the time).
Instead of saying what every part of me was screaming out ('I missed you too, so damn much') I sealed my lips that had gotten me into so much trouble over my short years, which wished to belong to him, and did the very same thing as every other day of this little dance, denied it.
"Yeah right, Smallville. Nice one, as if you even cared if I dropped off the end of the universe."
Even with a forced playful smile on my lips my words still came out harsher the I meant (truer is another word), all that I was feeling toward him coming out with only those words and the rage seeping off every inch of my skin.
"Lois-"
"Clark, I'm fine and I don't care if you missed me or not. It's not like I missed you."
I let my lies spring from me just like every other time before that (all were lies but that one yes to 'do you love this man?') and ignore the hurt that's shining his eyes because it's not even close to mine, which if I was Lana freaking Lang I would be wearing on my sleeve.
(which is still bleeding from the monster, cloverfield but of course, attack and where it all crashed and burned)
-
"Lois are you okay?"
Instead of me being there for her (because it's clear she has it a lot worse then me, meaning: one Jimmy Olsen is a dead duck) like I thought I would get my chance to be the loving cousin, she's more worried about me and it's no duh why.
"No (never, never again will that be a yes question), not really, Chlo."
"Clark?"
"Who else (after all my last ex is buzzing around you)? I'm sorry, this isn't like me, Chloe, I usually don't care this much but I thought he was the one. Yes, I'm saying 'written in the stars' soul mates and all that jazz. He was the first one, the only one. Oh, god Chloe I think I love him."
The words (those words that I gleefully denied all the rest of them, and with good reason) came flooding out faster then I could stop them, which happens way more then I want it too, but instead of going into the whole Clark and Lois epic drama she took Clark's place as my shoulder to cry on.
(but maybe someday, when the Lana train has left the station and you know that will be any time now, I might get it back, get him back and never let him go again)