Julienne
Her
I hated her.
That stupid, fucking slut took him from me. He was always mine, since we were teenagers. He had me and I had him, that was all there was to it. But suddenly she came along, and took him from me.
We were happy, so happy before she came around. Where the fuck did she even come from? Did they work together? How come he never mentions her? Maybe she’s not even that important to him.
One time, I saw them walking together to a coffee shop. He was teasing her, pulling her closer to him, his arm loosely around her. She wasn’t a short little thing, but she was about an inch or two shorter than him; and she was pretty.
Her face was a perfect oval, with thick, long hair framing her face. Her small dark eyes looked around, watching everything, at one point, I think she even caught my gaze. Her skin was a shade or two darker than mine, but all together she was quite a sight to see.
But, that just couldn’t stand. Why would he be with another girl, when he has me? So, I decided to ask him about this little skank.
“So, she’s pretty.”
We had been sitting on the couch for a while, eating day old pizza. We had been silent for a while, not saying much. He had just gotten back from work about an hour earlier, but it was killing me not asking him about it.
He looked at me then, a mixture of astonishment and confusion in his brown eyes. “What’d you say?”
I sat up straight in my seat then, facing him. “I said, she’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”
He blinked, first at me, and then at the floor before turning back to the television. I sat, waiting for him to say something, anything ,but he just sat like that, watching TV, while I watched him for what felt like an hour.
Finally, agitated, I exclaimed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Who the fuck is she?”
“Who?”
“The girl! That pretty girl that you were with at the coffee shop! Who is she?”
“You followed me?”
I stopped, about to shout, ‘Yes of course! I love you!’ but instead averted my eyes and began to pick at the dead ends of my hair.
He scoffed, “If you must know, she’s a friend from work. She’s new to the firm so I invited her out for a cup of coffee to let her feel welcome.”
“So, she’s not your girlfriend?”
“No, were just colleagues.”
“Ok.”
As we settled back into our positions on the couch, for some reason, I had this odd feeling that, for the first time, he had lied to me.
That stupid, fucking slut took him from me. He was always mine, since we were teenagers. He had me and I had him, that was all there was to it. But suddenly she came along, and took him from me.
We were happy, so happy before she came around. Where the fuck did she even come from? Did they work together? How come he never mentions her? Maybe she’s not even that important to him.
One time, I saw them walking together to a coffee shop. He was teasing her, pulling her closer to him, his arm loosely around her. She wasn’t a short little thing, but she was about an inch or two shorter than him; and she was pretty.
Her face was a perfect oval, with thick, long hair framing her face. Her small dark eyes looked around, watching everything, at one point, I think she even caught my gaze. Her skin was a shade or two darker than mine, but all together she was quite a sight to see.
But, that just couldn’t stand. Why would he be with another girl, when he has me? So, I decided to ask him about this little skank.
“So, she’s pretty.”
We had been sitting on the couch for a while, eating day old pizza. We had been silent for a while, not saying much. He had just gotten back from work about an hour earlier, but it was killing me not asking him about it.
He looked at me then, a mixture of astonishment and confusion in his brown eyes. “What’d you say?”
I sat up straight in my seat then, facing him. “I said, she’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”
He blinked, first at me, and then at the floor before turning back to the television. I sat, waiting for him to say something, anything ,but he just sat like that, watching TV, while I watched him for what felt like an hour.
Finally, agitated, I exclaimed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Who the fuck is she?”
“Who?”
“The girl! That pretty girl that you were with at the coffee shop! Who is she?”
“You followed me?”
I stopped, about to shout, ‘Yes of course! I love you!’ but instead averted my eyes and began to pick at the dead ends of my hair.
He scoffed, “If you must know, she’s a friend from work. She’s new to the firm so I invited her out for a cup of coffee to let her feel welcome.”
“So, she’s not your girlfriend?”
“No, were just colleagues.”
“Ok.”
As we settled back into our positions on the couch, for some reason, I had this odd feeling that, for the first time, he had lied to me.
♠ ♠ ♠
i have no idea where this is going