Just Impolite
Strangers
My doctor told me of my condition and contacted my parents for me. My mom had thrown a complete fit that I'd be blockheaded enough to just storm onto the street like that. I assured her that I'd talk to her later because I didn't want to publically announce to everyone in the room that I've been abused by my so-called lover.
The first night, that I was actually conscious to recall, was awkward because Ryan and I never spoke except some "excuse me's", "bless you's", and "thank you's" when we coughed or sneezed. Most of the time he read and I texted with my barely-alive phone.
But because I'm a person who is probably codependent 24/7, I couldn't stand not being able to spill my guts out to someone. I had to tell someone about Rob, my boyfriend who I most likely will dump soon enough.
Ryan placed his book down, "Is something bothering you?"
I looked at him with my eyes widened. I was confused at why he brought up the subject so soon.
"I read people pretty easily," he admitted with a laugh, "But anyways, what's bugging you up your knickers?"
I smiled at his choice of words, but frowned as I prepared to vent out to him.
Over about an hour and a half, I told Ryan every single little detail that was between Rob and I. I know that it's not just me...but things are always easier to spill out to strangers.
"Well, I have to say that I'm sorry to hear, but I admit that that I really can't do anything about it...although advise you to end things with him soon, uh, I don't think I've caught your name."
I ran my fingers through my hair as I exhaled from the weight I'd just gotten off my shoulders, "I know, and my name's Amelie."
"Oh, like the movie?" Ryan perked.
I nodded, "Like the movie." (The name is pronounced awh-muh-lee. It’s French. I also recommend that you watch the movie!)
"I've actually planned to name my daughter that, if I’m going to have one that is. The movie was very inspirational and all," he let out, "It’s pretty odd I’m opening up to a stranger like this.”
“I’m going to have to disagree with you there, buddy,” I protested, “It’s usually easier to open up to strangers because they don’t know a detail about you and your situation. Then they’d be able to see the problem in another point of view, and give you the best advice possible from their perspective.”
He put down the book he was reading onto his lap and stared into the ceiling for a moment, but it seemed like forty minutes had passed. He ran his hands through his chestnut-brown hair twice and bit his bottom lip.
“I guess if you put it that way, you’re correct,” he admitted, “I probably never spilled my beans to a stranger though.”
I traced my rib cage a bit, causing a little sensation of pain, “Well, you just kind of spilled to me right now.”
He smirked, “Then I suppose we’re not strangers anymore.”
The first night, that I was actually conscious to recall, was awkward because Ryan and I never spoke except some "excuse me's", "bless you's", and "thank you's" when we coughed or sneezed. Most of the time he read and I texted with my barely-alive phone.
But because I'm a person who is probably codependent 24/7, I couldn't stand not being able to spill my guts out to someone. I had to tell someone about Rob, my boyfriend who I most likely will dump soon enough.
Ryan placed his book down, "Is something bothering you?"
I looked at him with my eyes widened. I was confused at why he brought up the subject so soon.
"I read people pretty easily," he admitted with a laugh, "But anyways, what's bugging you up your knickers?"
I smiled at his choice of words, but frowned as I prepared to vent out to him.
Over about an hour and a half, I told Ryan every single little detail that was between Rob and I. I know that it's not just me...but things are always easier to spill out to strangers.
"Well, I have to say that I'm sorry to hear, but I admit that that I really can't do anything about it...although advise you to end things with him soon, uh, I don't think I've caught your name."
I ran my fingers through my hair as I exhaled from the weight I'd just gotten off my shoulders, "I know, and my name's Amelie."
"Oh, like the movie?" Ryan perked.
I nodded, "Like the movie." (The name is pronounced awh-muh-lee. It’s French. I also recommend that you watch the movie!)
"I've actually planned to name my daughter that, if I’m going to have one that is. The movie was very inspirational and all," he let out, "It’s pretty odd I’m opening up to a stranger like this.”
“I’m going to have to disagree with you there, buddy,” I protested, “It’s usually easier to open up to strangers because they don’t know a detail about you and your situation. Then they’d be able to see the problem in another point of view, and give you the best advice possible from their perspective.”
He put down the book he was reading onto his lap and stared into the ceiling for a moment, but it seemed like forty minutes had passed. He ran his hands through his chestnut-brown hair twice and bit his bottom lip.
“I guess if you put it that way, you’re correct,” he admitted, “I probably never spilled my beans to a stranger though.”
I traced my rib cage a bit, causing a little sensation of pain, “Well, you just kind of spilled to me right now.”
He smirked, “Then I suppose we’re not strangers anymore.”