hate will get you every time
Sometimes when he stares at her, she cant help but shudder. A stream of unconscious questions invade her mind but she chose loneliness over love. She chose to surrender instead of fighting for an everlasting fairy tale.
They fought. He called her names for hookingup with his best friend, she screamed at him for crushing on her best friend even though things were better. She cried herself to sleep and he couldn't look her in the eye. She stumbled and he promised to always catch her. She hadher head in the clouds, always wondering what could have been. While he lived in the present and dreamt of her voice.
They loved. She wrote him long love letters which he stored in a shoe box under his bed, along with a plastic ring and crumpled photos. He bought her jewelry which she swore she would wear as long as she loves him. A silver circle with a blue diamond, entangled in an even smaller ringlet- a promise ring, if you will.
She wore that goddamn ring every day, proudly showing it off to anyone who would listen. People would comment that it looked like an engagement ring, maybe it did, but that only caused her to smile secretly to herself. She was so goddamn proud that their snide tone meant nothing to her; she wasn't listening anyway.
It did not even matter that they fought over stupid things like the movie they would watch, or the exact shade of blue the sky was, all that mattered was that they were together and they were in an irrevocable love. So much passion was evoked when they kissed that it was as if there was no turning back and no such thing as terminal.
They battled their own history, constantly swallowing their pride; knowing that the prize did not matter, that winning or losing did not matter only strengthened their love. Despite the always present resentment, there were times that they could simply sink into a sweet oblivion.
Like every war, there were waves of calm and imaginary surrenders. There would be a rare point in the dead of night when her guard would be down and his fear of losing would drop, when everything was all well and right in their small, prevailing forever. Only then did she admit she never wanted to lose him, and only then did he swore he would never give up- no matter how many times she quit, swore, cried, and fought him.
And in that minuscule forever they had precariously built upon absolute abysmal bliss, she would believe.
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