Status: Complete.
My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon
In Love With A Guy
Everywhere you go, love is literally in the air. It flies through the wind and fills people’s lungs with its gentle touches, causing everyone to act like its Valentine’s Day 24/7.
If you’ve ever been to Paris, France, you’ll know exactly how the above statement is 100% true. At least six times a day, you’ll see a couple, easily identifiable by the fact that their hands are stuck together like a fly is stuck to a spider’s web. Even small children, not even nine years old yet, seem to be love struck. Of course, love dies, just like any regular thing, but who’s to say you can’t enjoy it while it lasts? Hell, I shouldn’t even talking about love dying, because as far as I’m concerned, that has, thankfully, never happened to me.
I first met Dylan Medle when I was 13 years old, about 7th grade. We had never really acknowledged each other’s existence until that fateful day in the cafeteria when we both reached for the last bowl of chocolate pudding.
Embarrassingly, we tugged for it until it flew out of our grasps, landing not so nicely on the principal. I don’t think I need to say that we both received detention for a week, because, as the principal put it, we were both ‘crazy, uncontrollable children in need of good discipline’.
Somehow, over scrubbing chalkboards, picking gum off the bottom of desks, and stamping chalkboard erasers out, we bonded, soon to become the stupidest and most idiotic pair of friends to ever set foot in Roger Matthews High.
Once highschool had started, Dylan and I made different friends, but our constant needs to hang out with each other turned our group of friends from ‘Dylan and Lindsey’ to ‘Dylan and Lindsey and Georgina and Andy’.
By the time grade ten rolled around, I couldn’t deny that I was madly obsessed with my best friend. Unfortunately, being the shy one of the group, I always made myself believe Dylan would never go out with me.
Boy was I in for a surprise when he asked me out on November 4th, and, having responded with a resounding ‘yes!’ our long six (almost seven!) year relationship began.
“Linds!” The calm, suave voice of my best friend, Georgina said, “Your boyfriends on the phone.”
She rolled her eyes playfully at me and I grinned, taking the receiver out of her hand and blowing her a kiss.
“Hello?” I said into the phone, watching as Georgina walked out of the small living room and into our kitchen.
“Hey babe.” Dylan’s voice said, and my heart skipped a beat happily. It was amazing how after nearly seven years of being together he still had this effect over me.
“What’s up for today?” I asked, kicking a throw pillow off the leather couch in the middle of the living room to the floor so I could sit down.
“You’ll see,” Dylan said mysteriously, almost timidly, “Just meet me at Coopers in an hour.”
“The grocery shop?” I questioned, my brows furrowing slightly as Dylan laughed and said, “Yeah, the grocery shop. Over and out.”
I hung up the phone, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch as I heard Georgina chortle.
“Romantic date, that is, the grocery shop.” She teased, receiving a playful smack on the arm courtesy of me.
“Shut up and go find something to do for the day.” I teased back, hopping off the couch and down the short hallway towards my room.
The first thing I saw upon entering was my reflection, hanging up in the mirror directly across from the door to my room.
Scowling at my slightly rumpled appearance, I grabbed a brush, hastily dragging it through my hair that hung two inches below my shoulders. It was a sandy brown colour, and I admired the new dark brown streaks I had just gotten a couple weeks ago. I raised a hand to sweep the side bangs away from my eyes, looking around for clothes to wear.
20 minutes later, I was ready to go, satisfied with my short jean skirt and black and green stripped tank top.
“Alright, I’m heading out now.” I called to Georgina, slipping out my room and towards the door of the apartment we shared.
She nodded at me, “Looking good.”
I smiled my thanks, stopping by the door to slip some flip-flops on and grab my purse, sunglasses, apartment keys, cell phone and some cash.
As I waited for the elevator to take me down to the lobby, my cell phone buzzed, signalling a new text message. I pulled it out and flipped it open, smiling when I read Dylan’s message.
I love you <3
Those three simple words were enough to brighten my day.
And if my day got any brighter, I’d need a seriously good pair of sunglasses to keep me from going blind.
If you’ve ever been to Paris, France, you’ll know exactly how the above statement is 100% true. At least six times a day, you’ll see a couple, easily identifiable by the fact that their hands are stuck together like a fly is stuck to a spider’s web. Even small children, not even nine years old yet, seem to be love struck. Of course, love dies, just like any regular thing, but who’s to say you can’t enjoy it while it lasts? Hell, I shouldn’t even talking about love dying, because as far as I’m concerned, that has, thankfully, never happened to me.
I first met Dylan Medle when I was 13 years old, about 7th grade. We had never really acknowledged each other’s existence until that fateful day in the cafeteria when we both reached for the last bowl of chocolate pudding.
Embarrassingly, we tugged for it until it flew out of our grasps, landing not so nicely on the principal. I don’t think I need to say that we both received detention for a week, because, as the principal put it, we were both ‘crazy, uncontrollable children in need of good discipline’.
Somehow, over scrubbing chalkboards, picking gum off the bottom of desks, and stamping chalkboard erasers out, we bonded, soon to become the stupidest and most idiotic pair of friends to ever set foot in Roger Matthews High.
Once highschool had started, Dylan and I made different friends, but our constant needs to hang out with each other turned our group of friends from ‘Dylan and Lindsey’ to ‘Dylan and Lindsey and Georgina and Andy’.
By the time grade ten rolled around, I couldn’t deny that I was madly obsessed with my best friend. Unfortunately, being the shy one of the group, I always made myself believe Dylan would never go out with me.
Boy was I in for a surprise when he asked me out on November 4th, and, having responded with a resounding ‘yes!’ our long six (almost seven!) year relationship began.
“Linds!” The calm, suave voice of my best friend, Georgina said, “Your boyfriends on the phone.”
She rolled her eyes playfully at me and I grinned, taking the receiver out of her hand and blowing her a kiss.
“Hello?” I said into the phone, watching as Georgina walked out of the small living room and into our kitchen.
“Hey babe.” Dylan’s voice said, and my heart skipped a beat happily. It was amazing how after nearly seven years of being together he still had this effect over me.
“What’s up for today?” I asked, kicking a throw pillow off the leather couch in the middle of the living room to the floor so I could sit down.
“You’ll see,” Dylan said mysteriously, almost timidly, “Just meet me at Coopers in an hour.”
“The grocery shop?” I questioned, my brows furrowing slightly as Dylan laughed and said, “Yeah, the grocery shop. Over and out.”
I hung up the phone, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch as I heard Georgina chortle.
“Romantic date, that is, the grocery shop.” She teased, receiving a playful smack on the arm courtesy of me.
“Shut up and go find something to do for the day.” I teased back, hopping off the couch and down the short hallway towards my room.
The first thing I saw upon entering was my reflection, hanging up in the mirror directly across from the door to my room.
Scowling at my slightly rumpled appearance, I grabbed a brush, hastily dragging it through my hair that hung two inches below my shoulders. It was a sandy brown colour, and I admired the new dark brown streaks I had just gotten a couple weeks ago. I raised a hand to sweep the side bangs away from my eyes, looking around for clothes to wear.
20 minutes later, I was ready to go, satisfied with my short jean skirt and black and green stripped tank top.
“Alright, I’m heading out now.” I called to Georgina, slipping out my room and towards the door of the apartment we shared.
She nodded at me, “Looking good.”
I smiled my thanks, stopping by the door to slip some flip-flops on and grab my purse, sunglasses, apartment keys, cell phone and some cash.
As I waited for the elevator to take me down to the lobby, my cell phone buzzed, signalling a new text message. I pulled it out and flipped it open, smiling when I read Dylan’s message.
I love you <3
Those three simple words were enough to brighten my day.
And if my day got any brighter, I’d need a seriously good pair of sunglasses to keep me from going blind.
♠ ♠ ♠
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