Speak Slow, Tell Me More

It was bringing everything back to my head. It was terrifying. Those ridiculous times of the year before. He brought it all back. He scared me, because he made me start to think I didn't need to feel how I felt.

I should explain in more detail. In all honesty, the story that was the real protagonist of the events I've been telling you.

It's quite simple really. Girl meets (older) boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Can't eat, can't sleep, all consuming, firey, pasisonate, overwhelming love. Boy claims to feel the same way. Girl gives boy virginity becauseshe assumes it's what he wants. Boy dumps girl for someone better.

So a year after that, I'd given up. After the tragic first-time romance, I was so determined that it was bullshit. That I just didn't care at all. That I could make out with, that I could fuck, that I could play head games with, whoever I wanted. Because they were idiots, because their hearts were still red, and raw, and still waiting to be broken and blackened. Because mine was blackened and charred already and I couldn't be hurt again because all of that love bullshit wasn't real. Because anyone who believed it was real was naive, and immature, and needed to be taught, to be broken, to be shown that they were wrong.

But I'd spent only one day with this boy. And I already knew it wasn't the same as other things.

I didn't want to randomly fuck him. Play that game where I let him inside me and make him fall in love with me while I lie there and make all the moves and say "Oh baby" and tell him he's amazing.

24 fucking hours and he meant more already. 24 hours and I could see him holding my hand with the same shy smile. I could see him kissing me on my forehead when I pretended to get upset at him and hugging me from behind when I didn't expect it.

I was scared that night. I didn't sleep. I'd planned already to meet him in the same spot the next morning. To show him the way again. I'd promised after school I'd show him around our town. Introduce him to a few of "the others" - a selection of aquaintances I've aqquired through friends of friends of boyfriends of girlfriends of lovers of ex's of friends. And more than anything I just wanted to sleep. To stop thinking for a few hours. But I couldn't switch off from him. That buzz. Those eyes. That voice.

The boy that was turning that blackened heart red again.