Love Is Stupid |✓

|12|

The cold air nipped at my skin, causing trails of goose bumps appear in its wake. I shivered, hugging my black cardigan closer to my body.

I was standing a few yards away from the old wooden bench where you were seated - patiently waiting for me as you glanced around from time to time. I was hiding behind a tree, careful so you won't see.

I wasn't supposed to go here at Lockingham Park. It was never in my plan to come here, where I knew you'd be waiting. It wasn't in my plan to wear a mint-green dress that fell just above my knees. A dress that was too short for the cold weather, causing my lips to quiver. Nor, was it my idea to fix my hair in a stylish braid. Who was I kidding? I had no plans at all. It was all conscience - for Gary.

It was all for him.

No matter how much I told myself that, though - that it was for Gary. The thought that maybe I really wanted to come too, lingered - mocking me in a way I didn't like.

Showing Gary that I could be human enough to come, and courageous enough to face you, was what I intended to do. In fact, my self-pep talk came as: for Gary, for Gary, for Gary. You can do this. It's just a stupid date.

Yet, I still didn't know why my stomach churned at the sight of your blonde hair and dark blue printed-tee paired with khaki pants and Nike's. The feeling caught me off-guard that I hastily hid behind a tree.

I took a quick peak at you, angling my body in a way that made me sure you wouldn't see. You had your head down and your phone was clutched in your hands, illuminating a white glow to your handsome face. Your blonde hair was softly moving over of your forehead as the soft breeze of the night swept along it. Your lower lip was rolled into your mouth as you hastily tapped onto your phone - completely oblivious to your surroundings, and to me who was creepily watching you.

I was watching you intently, drinking in all the small details about you. The way the shade of your hair turns into a darker blonde against the yellow light of the dimmed lamppost, the way your nose wrinkled every time the wind blows. The way a dimple digs deep into your right cheek when you smile. The way you unconsciously bob your knee up and down. Even the small pout on your lips.

No practice nor pep-talk would've prepared me for the feeling that surged through me that very moment. It felt like the air from my lungs was knocked away for a brief second, causing me to let out short gasps. It felt like everybody else moved in a faster and hastier pace, while I was left there in the same momentum as you. It didn't feel like we're the only two people left. No, Jason, it didn't. But, at that moment - that one precious moment, it felt like we're the only ones that matter and nobody else.

My heart thudded and pounded harder in my chest, the rhythm and symphony of its beats, numbing my ears. My throat burned, my eyes watered. It was all because of the fact that I tried to hide away from jumped in front of me - trapping me, leaving me with no space to move. It was all because I thought I was doing well. Until I realized, I still liked you, more than I ever should.

I still liked you, and it hurt me a lot. Because under the thick ice that wrapped around my aching heart, I knew that if things were only different, I would've been with you.

I would've been happy with you.

-

Gah, darn it. It hurts.