History Homework
by
Disclaimer: Ha-ha! I don't need a disclaimer! I didn't write anything in this story that can be copyrighted! *little victory dance* :)
My history book is open in front of me, but I've read barely a sentence in the last hour. No one would know that from looking, my eyes are glued to the pages, but my mind is wandering. I don't think I've ever had this much trouble focusing before.
The mental picture in my head is gorgeous. His hair is dark, and cut rather ordinarily, not buzz-cut short, but not long, either. His eyes are rich, chocolate-y brown, and the intelligence in those eyes is obvious to all who looks at them. Similarly, so is the guard that he has employed since such a young age.
His body is perfect, cut and lean, but not skinny. He's built, but without the weight-lifters' super-broad shoulders. The ripples of the muscles on his back are obvious through the tight t-shirts he likes to wear, especially his favorite black ones. His stride is confident, and he isn't clumsy, I can't remember him ever being, even during that notorious adolescent-boy period.
He runs with a different crowd, and seems happy with it, but if he wished, his body and fashion sense would be easily accepted into the shallow, materially obsessed group of cheerleaders and football players that I spend so much time with. His intelligence... well, it would be pretty much overlooked, as long as he didn't start spouting facts like a 'brain'.
I shake myself hard, and find sore muscles from sitting so still, for so long. I internally chastise myself. You can't do this! He's like a frickin' brother to you, he's been around as long as you can remember!
It's funny, that now is the time this chose to happen. Not before, when, as upset as she would have been, his 'significant other' would have stepped out of the way, allowing destiny to take its hand. But I made my disinterest clear, and she took her place back. Now, now, when his heart is taken by another, now my own spirit must make my ingrained emotions felt.
When I lost my own.
I'm a decisive girl. I've never shied from what had to be done, or what I felt had to be done, correct as it may have been, or otherwise. I'm not shy, and I fit in well with the brainless fashion bitches, even though I realize now, that I never truly belonged. For him, I defied the social expectations of me, gave up my dream of being a supermodel, realizing that that was never truly what I'd wanted out of life.
Even though he will never know.
He's gone now. So fast, so... poof. Here one minute, gone the next. I never got to say good-bye, and I never went to see his body afterwards. I don't believe that shell of an organic being ever truly housed first the boy, and then the man, that I loved. Wild and free, willing to believe anything, that wasn't the person. But still, there was a free soul, something that I always saw soaring above his head, rather than trapped in... what was it Yoda said? "This crude matter?"
And that's why I won't make a move for the man from my world. Because my feelings, I can't get a grip on them. And until I do, I can't take a good look at them, and figure out if I really feel that way for him, or if I'm just lonely.
God knows, I am lonely. That's not the issue. I miss him so much. But the question is, do I miss him enough to manufacture feelings within myself for the man who might as well be my second brother?
I don't know. And that's why I'm waiting. That's why I'm sitting here, in my bedroom, trying to avoid my brother's maybe-soulmate and her best friend, that's why I'm too embarrassed to show my face to them. Who could, to the girl whose life she could be about to ruin?
And how much I could ruin. They have something, something deep, something that runs through their bodies and minds and hearts and souls and beyond. To the very core of their being. In their humanity, their very center, they are joined.
She makes him happy. And that's something that my almost-brother hasn't seen much of in his short life. He doesn't deserve my emotional turmoil being added to the mix.
I roll my head around, my neck cracking a little, and sigh. I miss my love. I want my might-as-well-be brother. I'm driving myself crazy, and I need something else to focus on.
My eyes close on the book in front of me, and I feel relief. That's right. There's history homework.
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