Cornered [old prose]

[lollipop_luvr9]

A wise man walked toward me, handed me the phone I had lost, and walked away.
I was sad. I had expected comforting. He had run off.
I hunted. I said "How long am I to wait for you to be there for me? To be my friend and be supportive?" Words to hurt and bring him back.
He walked through the old brown threshold, and said nothing, but I saw his face.
I threw myself into his arms, my thoughts galloping toward him, my words racing one another for what to say, but the finish line was just out of reach.
I muttered his name, pressed my nose into his skin, soaking the smell of his irish soap and old spice deodorant.
He was here, fully aware, for answers.
I moved the finishing line closer to the racers, but they were grazing.
What do I say I asked them.
Their mouths were full with grass.
I stared at him, us both near tears. I had been so sad lately, so burdened by my unrequited love for him.
I said sorry.
Was I sorry? To late to debate it.
I gave him a letter. It said everything the racers had wanted.
It said I was patient, I would give him time and space to think, but that I had wanted him so bad I had been thrown into a romantic limbo.
Nobody else could be him, yet he did not want me.
He was in my lap. I played with his hair while being concious of my stomach, and how it was to noisy and large.
So I laid him down on my pillow, and put my head in his chest. The scent was back.
I said What's up?
He told me he needed two days to think.
That on my July 9th, I would get an answer. A decision.
The pessimist side of me can only ask, "Do you plan on breaking my heart on my half-birthday? Do you plan an evening at your house only to thoroughly crush any fantasy I still had of a world with us together?"
Instead I handed him a box, of all the love letters I had written but never given to him. I wanted him to have all the information and weapons needed to missle my heart.
I am patient, I wait, but I do not expect.

*True story. I am in love with my best friend Nate who does not love me back. This scene happened yesterday.*  

[Charles Drekyll]

Love bites, trust me I've just rescued myself from drowning in hopless romantisism. I've got so tired of seeking for something that wasn't in my grasp.
Though you do have a better chance, if this person was truly a friend they would have a lot of admeration for you so, and hopfully will say something of the sort "well might as well, she's a great friend".
Over all good luck, Allah knows I haven't had any.  

[lollipop_luvr9]

It is really nice to know Allah is on my side.  

[0kurohono0]

A man told his son every time you meet a new friend I want you to pound a nail into this post. The better the friend the deeper the nail needs to go and everytime one of those friends leaves I want you to pull that nail out. After 10 years of the son doing this the dad and son looked at the post friends come and go and every time they leave they leave a scar just like the holes in this post. The ones that meant the most leave the deepest scars.