A Little Too Not Over You (Lesbian Story) - BOOK 1

Chapter 1

Maybe it was the way that Lori looked at me, or the way that she touched and kissed me that got me weak in the knees. I mean for god sake; she was my ex yet I still think that I'm just a little too not over her. I found myself at times, thinking what if. What if we did not break up or that we became friends; friends because that's the only excuse that I could think of. After all, how else to keep her bound to me, but really, if you think about it, I'd be bound to her.

I'll admit that I tried to deny it, I'll admit that when people asked, my reply was always the same. "I'm over her." But was I? I might just be lonely. I have been single ever since her, though she's probably the reason why I was ... single; our love ain't finish yet. At least that's what I wanted to believe - that she was as much infatuated with me as I was with her, but knowing Lori, I know that was not likely.

I sighed, and then put my headphones on while watching her slip through my fingers like sands on the beach. She flirted with other girls and dated other girls. I tried to do the same, but it's always back to her. Frankly, I'm not sure how she did it. Pretending to be interested in somebody was so exhausting and who knows, maybe she actually did like or love some of them. I didn't care, I just wanted her to look at me ... again with love, passion and yearnings. I wanted to feel special to her again. I wanted to be special to her. I always did. She was just too caught up, too busy fucking around.

At night, she confided in me; she told me stories of whom she dated, or whom dumped her or whom she's loved before or still. She also told me stories of people she cheated on or played with in the past; all of that should've been clues, red flags, that should be good enough - good enough to think that this girl was bad news and that I should stay away, move on but my fight or flight senses had gone AWOL. Instead all I was hoping for was another chance. Another chance at being loved right by her. To be chosen. When that day come, if ever, I think it would be a miracle. I wouldn't hold my breath though. Except I was.

One thing for sure was that she knew how I felt about her. Once, she wanted to sleep with me; she did that sometimes whenever she wanted to fall asleep, but over the phone, she would call at night, I would either sang her to sleep or bore her to death. Whichever. At the end of the day, she slept, and then I would fall asleep or hang up.

Anyways, one night she called and I agreed to let her sleep, and then she asked, "Is it because you love me that makes you do the things you do?" I paused, and then said, "I'm not sure how I feel about you but know that I care, if not maybe a little too much."

We're friends. I don't want to be but friends do what they do best; comfort you when needed and be there for you when necessary. I tried to pretend that I was over it, that it didn't bother me. I'm good at that, pretending that is but then I get involved with her and just like that I'd get captivated.

Again.