Status: Will update when I can
Eleven Confessions
Confession #8
Confession #8: Time passes and things will change. The problem isn’t that things are horrible. It’s that you can’t find the patience to wait for things to change.
*THREE WEEKS LATER*
Being with Tate was like going into an alternate universe. When I was with him, there were no problems in the world. Everyone that caused problems disappeared, and, everything that seemed front and center when he was away, faded silently to the back of my mind. It wasn’t like in those cheesy romance novels about how people can’t be away from there soul mate for a single second. I didn’t even consider Tate my soul mate, it wasn’t like that. It was more like we were meant to be a part of each other’s lives, in one way or another.
He came into morning assembly with a big smile on his face that took my breath away. Friends or not, he was still beautiful. He plopped down beside me, as he always did, and fiddled around in his Big Bird back pack (he had a thing for cartoons), pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Straightening his glasses that never seemed to leave their spot, he handed it to me.
It was our history project with a big A+ written in red ink at the top. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He winked.
I slightly parted my hair to look up at him, but than his face got serious, “Why do you wear your hair like that?” He said gently.
I shook my head, my hair falling back into place, “Like what?” Was it really not obvious?
“Why do you hide your face? You’re not hideous, you know.”
“Well thank you”… I think, “And I just don’t like people looking at me.” Like privacy was my upmost concern. I silently begged him to drop the subject. My hair was just that. My hair. It was none of his business.
But, instead of letting it go, he looked at me as if my hair wasn’t in front of my face, shrugging, almost as if I was really not hideous. Almost as if I… no, never mind.
“Well, I think that you should put it behind your ears. Just my opinion.”
I looked away, embarrassed, and scarred that he might really be able to see through my hair. Maybe that’s why Tate seemed so different from everyone else. Maybe, just maybe, he actually understood what I was going through.
So I looked back at him, finding that his eyes were trained on me unblinkingly, as if he expected me to say something. I parted my hair just a little bit, “Do you miss your dad?”
He shook his head, his eyes not breaking from mine, “Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if he had stayed. I was really young when he left, so I don’t really remember him. But, when I look at my mom, and see all that she is going through- all that she went through because of him, and I’m glad that he’s gone. My family is better off without him.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, his smile returning, “Don’t be. Life’s a bitch.”
I laughed, “Got that right!”
*THREE WEEKS LATER*
Being with Tate was like going into an alternate universe. When I was with him, there were no problems in the world. Everyone that caused problems disappeared, and, everything that seemed front and center when he was away, faded silently to the back of my mind. It wasn’t like in those cheesy romance novels about how people can’t be away from there soul mate for a single second. I didn’t even consider Tate my soul mate, it wasn’t like that. It was more like we were meant to be a part of each other’s lives, in one way or another.
He came into morning assembly with a big smile on his face that took my breath away. Friends or not, he was still beautiful. He plopped down beside me, as he always did, and fiddled around in his Big Bird back pack (he had a thing for cartoons), pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Straightening his glasses that never seemed to leave their spot, he handed it to me.
It was our history project with a big A+ written in red ink at the top. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He winked.
I slightly parted my hair to look up at him, but than his face got serious, “Why do you wear your hair like that?” He said gently.
I shook my head, my hair falling back into place, “Like what?” Was it really not obvious?
“Why do you hide your face? You’re not hideous, you know.”
“Well thank you”… I think, “And I just don’t like people looking at me.” Like privacy was my upmost concern. I silently begged him to drop the subject. My hair was just that. My hair. It was none of his business.
But, instead of letting it go, he looked at me as if my hair wasn’t in front of my face, shrugging, almost as if I was really not hideous. Almost as if I… no, never mind.
“Well, I think that you should put it behind your ears. Just my opinion.”
I looked away, embarrassed, and scarred that he might really be able to see through my hair. Maybe that’s why Tate seemed so different from everyone else. Maybe, just maybe, he actually understood what I was going through.
So I looked back at him, finding that his eyes were trained on me unblinkingly, as if he expected me to say something. I parted my hair just a little bit, “Do you miss your dad?”
He shook his head, his eyes not breaking from mine, “Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if he had stayed. I was really young when he left, so I don’t really remember him. But, when I look at my mom, and see all that she is going through- all that she went through because of him, and I’m glad that he’s gone. My family is better off without him.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, his smile returning, “Don’t be. Life’s a bitch.”
I laughed, “Got that right!”