Status: NaNoWriMo - 21,112 words.
Exits and Entrances
cady grisham.
You were always a cocky prick. But you know ... when you were with me, or when I was around, you were so sweet, so kind, so loving. And maybe that’s why I finally fell for you, because you changed for me. But you didn’t really, Tommy. You didn’t. You were putting on a show, trying to make me believe that you were perfect. No one’s perfect, Tommy.
I “stalk” you on Twitter and FaceBook now. You have no idea how jealous it makes me when you say you’re hanging out with Danny and Caroline, or whoever it may be now, because ... well to be frank, they get you and I get the memories I have so carefully tucked away, hidden behind a wall of things I can never look at, things that will always make me feel like complete and utter shit because like the screw up I am, I lost you.
What does that make me? Nothing good, I can assure you. I don’t even know who I am anymore, or who I’ve become. I look in the mirror in the morning and am surprised by who looks back. That’s not a good thing, is it, Tommy?
I need you back by my side.
I miss our friends. Brenda and Bertha can hardly look me in the eye anymore, and Derek and Samuel can’t have a conversation with me, because they’re too afraid. I can see it in their eyes as they shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
What did I do, Tommy? What made you make that choice, to leave the safety of my arms and move into hers?
I hate you for that.
Do you remember those nights where we had nothing to lose, and only had one chance? The nights were we snuck into Boston, trying desperately to get into night clubs? Or when I twisted my ankle running in heels, and you carried me all the way home, as the sun blended in with the pitch black horizon? Or when we went to the beach, and every few moments, when you lost sight of me in the dark blue tide, you’d grab me around the waist and kiss me and make me promise never to leave the safety of your arms ever again. Can’t we have that back again, Tommy? Where we were always touching, always some part of us wanting to be a part of something and to want nothing more than each other.
I never understood why you wanted me so close. I thought maybe its just what you felt you had to do, or maybe it was you were just nervous, and used me as something to do.
But I could hear your heartbeat, Tommy, and it was beating faster and faster with every moment my skin was touching yours.
And I love you for that.
I “stalk” you on Twitter and FaceBook now. You have no idea how jealous it makes me when you say you’re hanging out with Danny and Caroline, or whoever it may be now, because ... well to be frank, they get you and I get the memories I have so carefully tucked away, hidden behind a wall of things I can never look at, things that will always make me feel like complete and utter shit because like the screw up I am, I lost you.
What does that make me? Nothing good, I can assure you. I don’t even know who I am anymore, or who I’ve become. I look in the mirror in the morning and am surprised by who looks back. That’s not a good thing, is it, Tommy?
I need you back by my side.
I miss our friends. Brenda and Bertha can hardly look me in the eye anymore, and Derek and Samuel can’t have a conversation with me, because they’re too afraid. I can see it in their eyes as they shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
What did I do, Tommy? What made you make that choice, to leave the safety of my arms and move into hers?
I hate you for that.
Do you remember those nights where we had nothing to lose, and only had one chance? The nights were we snuck into Boston, trying desperately to get into night clubs? Or when I twisted my ankle running in heels, and you carried me all the way home, as the sun blended in with the pitch black horizon? Or when we went to the beach, and every few moments, when you lost sight of me in the dark blue tide, you’d grab me around the waist and kiss me and make me promise never to leave the safety of your arms ever again. Can’t we have that back again, Tommy? Where we were always touching, always some part of us wanting to be a part of something and to want nothing more than each other.
I never understood why you wanted me so close. I thought maybe its just what you felt you had to do, or maybe it was you were just nervous, and used me as something to do.
But I could hear your heartbeat, Tommy, and it was beating faster and faster with every moment my skin was touching yours.
And I love you for that.