Shaking and Waiting for Something More
Shaking And Waiting For Something More.
I watched the rain fall and the people rushing in every direction to avoid it. My head was pressed to the window, my coffee cup now harbouring only cold liquid on the table I had been at for far too long.
It was the same for hers.
The reasoning? Well, that was something else entirely.
It was dark out now, but the sun was shining clear when I had come in, sat in this spot and waited patiently for her. I always waited patiently, but only for her. I know I'll always remember the way she moved; the way everything around her seemed so dull while she shined all the brighter. It had been over three years since I had first laid eyes on her, and over two since I had first called her mine. I was only seventeen, but all the time with her had told me I could keep that up forever. Keep on loving her forever.
But only if she'd let me.
Our story was so simple and so complex that even I had to admit I'd lost track of it at times. I'd met her at the wrong time; I knew that and everybody else knew that. But I didn't care; I never would as long as she agreed to be mine somewhere along the line. The boy's arm she clung to had always had a way of snaking itself around other girls, and she had always turned a blind eye. Fourteen was far too young to be so hurt, and yet she allowed it to carry on without batting an eyelid in his direction.
That night was the one night she finally took notice. The way he looked at other girls, the way he touched them, and the frequency of his long disappearances. She'd hated every second and now it was time for payback. I was the first person her eyes landed on, the first boy who grinned at her in the silly way she would one day tell me she loved so much.
It felt like such a long time ago that she'd first looked at me that way - such a long time since we'd first kissed. I was so sure everything would work out; that the perfect girl kissing me would want to be with me from the moment her lips touched mine and carried on forever.
The rain was still pouring outside the window, the people still rushing; my chest still aching.
Things had been so weird for us for so long that it was a shock when we were finally okay. I spent a year comforting her in every way possible, through every tiny little bump in the road that threw her even a millimetre off course. I was always there. I didn't know how not to be. That's how I was there when she needed me the most, when she finally found what she wanted in me; in her best friend.
I knew I'd been trailing her, that I'd been a little lost puppy and there was nothing there but hopeless eyes and love struck stammering until she told me she wanted to. I knew she would. There was no sense of arrogance in the statement; I was just so hopelessly in love with her I couldn't think of a world where she didn't love me back.
Even now, she was everything. I was still sat here, still clinging on to the same cup hoping so badly she would walk back in and everything would be okay - that it was all a cruel joke. I'd forgive her in a heartbeat, she'd be back in my arms and we'd be us again. One more time to add to our seemingly never-ending list of breakups and hook ups. We were always us; we were always the couple everyone knew was on and off more than a light bulb. We were never the couple that was going to be together forever to everyone else, but to us, it always felt so right until it suddenly felt wrong. I didn't know a feeling like it, and I didn't know if I'd ever feel it again.
I remember the first time. I remember her lips on his. I remember the way the anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach. We weren't together, I had no claim over her, but I knew her. I knew her so well it physically hurt me to see him forcing himself on her; to see him shoving his tongue down her throat so roughly she looked like she was going to gag. I couldn't remember throwing the first punch, I just knew I did. I couldn't remember the amount of time he tried his cheap shots; his low blows, and the little pain they caused me every single time.
It was all in the past now.
The shop was closing. The streetlights shone too brightly and I was forced from my chair and away from the two cold cups I had protected for the past few hours. She wasn't coming back to this place, I had waited in a vain attempt to cling to a girl I wasn't even sure ever loved me. The rain hadn't stopped for hours, the wind egging it on and forcing the droplets to sting on my face. Any other day I would have run through it to my car, today I walked slowly toward the vehicle, stumbling through the puddles and fumbling for the keys.
It was only now it hit. It was only now I saw it. It was only now the pain came rushing to me. It was only now I realised she'd slipped from my fingers again and I had no guarantee that I would ever get her back. It was only now that I saw I'd lost the first love. It was only now, falling into the driver's seat, that I let the tears fall.
I was Alex Gaskarth, and I was sat in front seat of my car, shaking, waiting for something more than she could ever give me.
It was the same for hers.
The reasoning? Well, that was something else entirely.
It was dark out now, but the sun was shining clear when I had come in, sat in this spot and waited patiently for her. I always waited patiently, but only for her. I know I'll always remember the way she moved; the way everything around her seemed so dull while she shined all the brighter. It had been over three years since I had first laid eyes on her, and over two since I had first called her mine. I was only seventeen, but all the time with her had told me I could keep that up forever. Keep on loving her forever.
But only if she'd let me.
Our story was so simple and so complex that even I had to admit I'd lost track of it at times. I'd met her at the wrong time; I knew that and everybody else knew that. But I didn't care; I never would as long as she agreed to be mine somewhere along the line. The boy's arm she clung to had always had a way of snaking itself around other girls, and she had always turned a blind eye. Fourteen was far too young to be so hurt, and yet she allowed it to carry on without batting an eyelid in his direction.
That night was the one night she finally took notice. The way he looked at other girls, the way he touched them, and the frequency of his long disappearances. She'd hated every second and now it was time for payback. I was the first person her eyes landed on, the first boy who grinned at her in the silly way she would one day tell me she loved so much.
It felt like such a long time ago that she'd first looked at me that way - such a long time since we'd first kissed. I was so sure everything would work out; that the perfect girl kissing me would want to be with me from the moment her lips touched mine and carried on forever.
The rain was still pouring outside the window, the people still rushing; my chest still aching.
Things had been so weird for us for so long that it was a shock when we were finally okay. I spent a year comforting her in every way possible, through every tiny little bump in the road that threw her even a millimetre off course. I was always there. I didn't know how not to be. That's how I was there when she needed me the most, when she finally found what she wanted in me; in her best friend.
I knew I'd been trailing her, that I'd been a little lost puppy and there was nothing there but hopeless eyes and love struck stammering until she told me she wanted to. I knew she would. There was no sense of arrogance in the statement; I was just so hopelessly in love with her I couldn't think of a world where she didn't love me back.
Even now, she was everything. I was still sat here, still clinging on to the same cup hoping so badly she would walk back in and everything would be okay - that it was all a cruel joke. I'd forgive her in a heartbeat, she'd be back in my arms and we'd be us again. One more time to add to our seemingly never-ending list of breakups and hook ups. We were always us; we were always the couple everyone knew was on and off more than a light bulb. We were never the couple that was going to be together forever to everyone else, but to us, it always felt so right until it suddenly felt wrong. I didn't know a feeling like it, and I didn't know if I'd ever feel it again.
I remember the first time. I remember her lips on his. I remember the way the anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach. We weren't together, I had no claim over her, but I knew her. I knew her so well it physically hurt me to see him forcing himself on her; to see him shoving his tongue down her throat so roughly she looked like she was going to gag. I couldn't remember throwing the first punch, I just knew I did. I couldn't remember the amount of time he tried his cheap shots; his low blows, and the little pain they caused me every single time.
It was all in the past now.
The shop was closing. The streetlights shone too brightly and I was forced from my chair and away from the two cold cups I had protected for the past few hours. She wasn't coming back to this place, I had waited in a vain attempt to cling to a girl I wasn't even sure ever loved me. The rain hadn't stopped for hours, the wind egging it on and forcing the droplets to sting on my face. Any other day I would have run through it to my car, today I walked slowly toward the vehicle, stumbling through the puddles and fumbling for the keys.
It was only now it hit. It was only now I saw it. It was only now the pain came rushing to me. It was only now I realised she'd slipped from my fingers again and I had no guarantee that I would ever get her back. It was only now that I saw I'd lost the first love. It was only now, falling into the driver's seat, that I let the tears fall.
I was Alex Gaskarth, and I was sat in front seat of my car, shaking, waiting for something more than she could ever give me.