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Supertails -> That's Life (6/3/2010 19:31:00)
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Short story I'd written for my Creative Writing class. It sucks, but here you go...
I laughed into the phone as my girl told me all about the food fight that had nearly broken out at lunch. It was a forced laugh, and I didn't really do much to hide that. I was mad. And it was her freaking fault, too. Oh, baby, I forgot to tell you, I've got a friend over. Oh? A friend? Who's that? You don’t know him, he’s just a friend, and it doesn't matter. Maybe not to you, but you’re not the one who’s gonna be cheated on tonight, so of course you don't think it's very important, huh?
"That's great, I'm glad you're having fun!" I say. A lie.
She laughs her sweet, melodic laugh, the one that always manages to bring a grin to my face; but any semblance of a smile was gone from this mask tonight, and one wasn’t likely to show anytime soon.
"What's his name?"
Silence.
"...who?" she asks. Oh please.
"Your friend, you know, the one staying over for the night? Who is he? What's his name?" I pressed, trying to keep the imminent bubbling anger from creeping into my voice. If I had to guess, I would say I was doing a horrendous job of it.
She gave me his name, which I actually didn't give a crap about at all. I just wanted to get the subject back to him. She was hiding something, I could tell; there was a nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me so. Some guy I didn't know about was at her house, and I figured I knew where it would go.
"We're not going to do anything, don't worry. I mean it...I love you."
Words. Empty words.
"I love you too...more than anything in the world, baby...you know that," I told her. This wasn't a lie, it was 100% true, every word of it. I really did love her more than anything, but I doubted that she felt the same. She couldn't, I love her far too much.
"Then you believe me, right?"
I froze. I couldn’t lie to her, but...I didn't want to make her mad, either. Even if she was doing just that to me...
"How long have you known him?" I ask instead, turning the inevitable onslaught away from myself. She sighs.
"I-I just met him the other day, I was at the movie..."
Ah. New Moon. I hated knowing she'd gone to that because that “hunky” Taylor Lautner goes shirtless half the gosh-darn time. Just thinking about the fact that she was probably staring at his chest, his abs, swooning over him, thinking about how hot he was...it was like a dagger straight through my heart. Ooh, he took his shirt off! Look at how sexy he is! How could she look at other guys like that? I was loyal. I haven't looked at another woman in that way since I'd been with her.
Honestly, it made me wonder how much she really did love me. I won't even lie, sometimes I'd had an urge to leave her. I didn't want to live without her, no, I love her to death, but that only made the relationship even harder. I couldn't take it. I give her my everything, I want her everything back. Not her "almost-everything-but-not-quite."
"One movie and he's already at first base? Damn, he must be real good," I quipped, words absolutely dripping with acerbity.
"It's not like that!" she shouted. I heard her voice waver; she was getting close to tears.
"Well, then why didn't I know about him? I thought we told each other everything!"
"I d-didn't think it was that important!" She was definitely crying now.
"God..." I muttered mostly to myself before raising my voice to her again. "You know how jealous I get. Jesus, it kills me just knowing that you find other guys 'hot'! How did you think that not telling me about this guy would possibly end well?!" I shouted right back, the only difference being that mine were shouts of anger.
I know it for a fact now, thinking about it; that idiot doesn't love me nearly as much as I love her. Yet, though I call her an idiot, she's not. She's amazing. I expect far too much from her, I expect her feelings for me to match with my already ridiculously extreme love for her. And I hate both her and myself for it.
From her end of the line, I heard only sobbing. My head pulsed painfully, this not-so-nascent anger fueled only more by her silence. That's around the point where I got nasty.
"There's this girl I've been looking at in school," I tell her. Suddenly even her sobs cut quiet. I grin. "She's really, really cute. I've been scolding myself over it, but I've been so tempted to just ask her out." It was true, too. While I had been angry with myself for thinking about anyone but her like that, I couldn't stop the fantasies that easily. So many times had I imagined being with her, holding her, feeling her lips on my own...
"...w-what...?" she responds quietly, sounding miserable. Good.
"You heard me. Maybe now that you've got someone else..."
"N-no, please!" she just about shrieked, almost hysterical now. I could practically see the stream of tears flowing down her beautiful cheeks. "I love you...I swear, I love you, only you..."
"You don't love me like I love you...you never will."
"No, please, no..." she repeated, still having a fit. I got a knot in my stomach hearing her like that, yet I trudged onwards with it.
"...I can't take this anymore. I love you. Bye."
"...what? What do you mean? You're not-...wait, stop, no!" was all I heard before pulling the phone from my ear and ending the call. After a couple moments of staring at the floor, I threw the phone at the wall and watched the shattered device clatter to the floor, knowing I'd never need it again, and walked up the stairs to my room.
That brings us to now. Now I'm sitting here in my room, this No. 2 pencil gliding effortlessly across the paper, and my father's pistol sitting right next to me. Needless to say, this is the last anyone will ever hear from me. Whoever reads this first...don't let her read it. Tell her this journal was just filled with sweet I love you's and desperate I'm sorry's. Tell her that my last entry was of me begging her for her sweet forgiveness.
There’s not much more to say. I need to do this before I lose the courage to get it over with. Heh, God, these guns are so much heavier than they look…and colder. Maybe that’s just my blood. Thank you for bothering to read this, and if you know me...thanks for being my friend. My finger is trembling on the trigger and I don't want it to go off before I finish, so I'll wrap up here in the most cliché way I can think of and just get it over with.
Goodbye.
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