Mr. Fix It

I talked. I talked for what seemed like forever about nothing at all. It's like I was a little kid again, rambling on and on just because someone finally gave me the attention I'd been craving. I felt her breathing as she listened, and every now and then she would make some sort of noise or say something, just to prove she was awake.

"...and so then I thought about how I was so bored and thought that it would be more fun if I were a squirrel. Then suddenly, my image of a squirrel became distorted or something 'cause I was imagining a blue monkey running upstage, taking a violin, and just bashing it into the director's head." I laughed as I described one of my friend's spring concerts for orchestra I went to awhile ago.

She looked up at me. "Really? Like, is that what honestly goes on in your mind?" She asked, looking at me. I guess I looked a bit sad, but I nodded at her. She inched closer to me, sort of like I had done earlier.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I still don't hate you." She whispered in my face and went back to leaning on me.

"No, no, no. That's... that's not the kinda 'me' I meant." I said, a bit upset that she had been thinking about that this whole time. She was playing games with me at this point! Damn, that's my job to mess with people!

"Well, if that's how you think, then I have no idea what else you could mean. You're not scary, you're funny and entertaining. I don't understand where you ever got the idea that people don't love you-"

"Because they don't!" I said indignantly.

"Like who?" She dared me to answer, looking up at me from my lap which she had rolled onto.

"Ok, explain this to me, smart ass. How is it possible for ANYONE in the world to love me when my own family can't? Blood is thicker than water, but obviously not thick enough in my case." I said, speaking in proverbs as I tend to do when I can't explain my feelings.

She looked at me. Finally she uttered, "They can't hate you. Like you said, they're your family."

"And like I've demonstrated, I'm crazy." I replied.

"No, you're not. You're magnificent." She said.

"Ugh! Everytime you compliment me I feel like you're just mocking me deep down! It's like, no one can think highly of me except myself. No one can think I'm perfect except myself. My friends love me for entertainment; not because I'm smart, not because I'm 'magnificent'. People love me because I'm good for a laugh, and that's all I'm good for." I said angrily.

"You don't even see it! You're not crazy, you're not just a jester. You're so much more." She said, raising her voice slightly yet still not yelling at me.

"You don't understand! No one can love me! I'm so fucked up and so... I'm so... I'm just different. I do stupid things, I do crazy things- somethings people don't even imagine are an everyday thing for me! I'm... I'm just... what I've been saying now is the part of me people love. It's the tiniest part of me, but if I showed the big part of me, I'd have no one." I said, practically yelling at the sky because I couldn't yell at a face that sweet.

"You're wrong."

"I think I know myself better than you do." I said, annoyed that she was so intent on believing I was great. I was torn. Am I angry? Am I happy? She can't really love me... or can she? It's never happened that someone's loved me as more than a friend. Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of friends who would give the world to help me, but none who actually loved me. None of them knew the real me, and that's how it's supposed to be. Why is she like this? Why am I letting her know? What the hell?!

"I think you just see the dark side. You have low-self esteem. You can be loved." She said, looking me in the eye, though I tried looking away.

"Prove i-" and suddenly her mouth was pressing on mine.