You can never get enough of stereotypes.
Meanwhile Part 4: The Morning After
It was a dull, grey, wet morning. Squee woke up with the sheets twisted around his body, which were still wearing the clothes from yesterday. The boy got up slowly and trudged towards the window, hugging himself in the damp chilly air of his room.
The storm was over and everything was completely soaked. The leaves from the trees sagged with rain droplets and the air had that 'just rained on' smell.
The house was quiet again. There was no thunderstorm. It was quiet.
It was a Friday, thank God, and Squee always kicked off his weekend to a bit of music. He turned the radio on and changed out of yesterday's clothes. Dashboard's For You to Notice played softly in the background as he pulled a Voice in the Wire shirt on.
I'm starting to fashion an idea in my head.
The roof began to sound with little pit-patter noises, indicating that there was a slight drizzle outside. Squee buckled his belt and peered out the window. The clouds continued crying out their tears and they fell gracefully all over the place, creating little streams on the sides of the streets and dampening the already sodden grass.
Squee liked it when it was raining. He liked to think of it as a bath time for the society, as if the rain temporarily washed away the wrongs of the world. Of course, the dirt and grime would pile up again overtime but the rain really helped once in a while. It showed what the world was really made of, and Squee liked it that way.
Where I would impress you
With every single word I say.
The song added weight to Squee's heart. He hated yet loved Dashboard Confessional for all its relationship angst. He already had the burning hatred towards humanity fuming inside of him along with the problems that Devi and Johnny were currently facing with to think about, along with another problem.
He wrote about it in his journal. He even typed it up on his LiveJournal whenever he felt the need to. He had poems about it scribbled on the margins of his homework.
Would come out insightful, brave, smooth, or charming
And you'd want to call me.
He really hated the whole love/infatuation thing, but then if he admitted to it out loud he would look like a hypocrite. He had this whole theory of love scribbled down in his diary somewhere.
To him, love and infatuation was the same thing. They followed the same basic principals. He found it pathetic how people into them everyday.
He saw love and infatuation as other ways to make oneself look like an idiot, but then again upon thinking like this, it made him hypocritical.
He hated love, but he was human. To deny a feeling is to deny nature of things.
And I would be there every time
You'd need me.
He believed that the only beauty to love and relationships was the mere beginning of it, the start of it all, when everything clicks and starts running. The beginning makes it seem like everything will be perfect, so untouched by the filth of the reality surrounding it, but of course all is not what it seems to be. People think that this whole love thing will last forever or at least for a very long time, but like all things, it begins to wear down. The rot sets in, taking away what seemed to be perfect in the first place.
I'd be there every time…
But now I'll look so longingly
Waiting…
The whole love thing becomes more of a routine than something exciting and unexpected. It becomes part of the daily schedule. It becomes just another part of the day. The magic is gone. It disappears, or maybe it just wasn't there at all. Maybe it's just all a delusion of the human mind to make people think that they are happy with what they've become, what they've just accomplished.
Squee believed this word for word, but he knew inside that he was feeling differently.
He had this particular person in mind.
He always had this particular person in mind.
She was in his English class. She sat exactly one row and one desk to the right from him.
It was pure infatuation of course, but as a human being he couldn't do anything about it. He just had to accept what came to him. That was how life worked for him, to accept whatever's been thrown at him. He lived by that principle ever since he first moved into the neighbourhood.
On impulse, Squee mechanically checked the digital clock/radio sitting on the side table by his bed. There was ten minutes before the bus arrived. He had to go.
The angst-ridden boy picked up his backpack on his way out, forgetting to switch off the radio. The song faded into nothing as Todd Casil left the house.
…For you to want me, for you to need me, for you to notice me.