let them boys be

(ten reasons why we are not meant to be)

Summary: We're both ticking bombs and we should end this before we both blow up. Or, reasons why you and I will be the worst couple in the history of worst couples.
Themes/Tags: different style. blame that burrito i had for snack. swearing. train wrecks waiting to happen.
Warnings: please take no offence at them dumb boys and their preferences. also, please don't attempt to copy the following delinquent behaviours unless you have your parent's permission.

(ten reasons why we are not meant to be) -

1. Our music tastes are so drastically different, they're engaged in an endless and useless war that puts England and France to shame.

What kind of self-respecting teenage boy likes the Backstreet Boys or-----for crying out loud, Pitbull? What kind of decent human being doesn't like the Beatles?! I can't stand you pulling up next to me on the curb with that disgusting loud bass pounding and you nodding along to some egotistic lyrics written by some stoned rapper and you make fun of my playlists of golden oldies----these are the songs that will go down in history and still get played years from now, with lyrics that will be quoted and used in essays and-----DON'T YOU DARE TRY AND CONVINCE ME THAT THAT TRASH YOU LISTEN TO WITH THE VOLUME UP SO LOUD MY DEAF OLD GRANNY NEIGHBOUR CAN HEAR IS MUSIC, YOU HEAR---- 

2. You think speed is the game and I think you're insane.

I don't even know who the fuck decided to let you pass that driver's test----perhaps he was just glad that he made it out of the car alive. You almost killed us that time I stupidly agreed to join you in a joy ride in place of sitting for an hour and twenty minutes listening to some boring chemistry lesson-----and you laughed when we came skidding to a stop in an empty parking lot, narrowly missing that lamp post and nearly getting caught by the police, not to mention almost giving that man a heart attack when you swerved around him back at 13th ave. You never watched out for any road sign, deciding that you were always in the right, and if you happened to be wrong, you'd just put your foot on the gas pedal and kept on going until you left everyone else behind in the dust.

3. I was the class clown and you were a train wreck waiting to happen, and we were both the reason why that teacher quit her job and left the country.

When you walked in the door----sauntered, more like----that fateful day, I was struck because I had never met anyone else that could capture the whole room's attention without a word, only a simple smile and that easy careless vibe. I was convinced (still am, really) that if the devil was human, he'd look like you. And of course because you also had that attention-grabbing nature, and I was an only child without the knowledge of how to share, we were competing neck-to-neck at everything. Talking fast, reading the most books, racing to the water fountain, the first one to get out when the recess bell went, the best prank to make the teacher cry, the last one to give up when answering math questions-----the class had a field day when we finally made poor Ms. Strussen have a mental breakdown that day when we filled the waterballoons with paint and made the class play war when we just wanted an excuse to get each other down and dirty.

4. Neither of us can sit still for more than five seconds or keep our bitterness to ourselves.

Energy was something us "troublesome kids" just had endlessly, and when anger or angst came along with that age of puberty, there was no better way at letting it out than ripping into others. Everyone learned to stay away from us, if not by the amount of bruises on our faces, then the loud shouting they'd get when they dared accidentally step in our way during those times when we'd get pissed off at the smallest thing. You had your dangerous unsheathed claws and I had my impressively colourful vocabulary, both weapons useless against each other yet so useful in building up tension in each other. So it was no surprise that we'd stuck together, learning to stop hurting the others around us when we can just push and shove each other to our content, because either way, no matter how much we bled or how much it ached when the darts hit the right spot, we'd bounce back ready to pounce at each other again.

5. You're a horny bastard and I can't help but crave body heat.

We've never once said that we were exclusively each others', and so it's not a surprise that there'd be other people in our beds, taking up our time away from each other. Heck, there's no love lost between us, and there's plenty of complexes and trauma in both our pasts that we don't feel the need to talk about. So what I liked it when your hands wandered underneath my clothes and so what I liked it when you whispered my name in my ear? I know a thing or two about where to put pressure to make you squirm, I know how you like it when I drag my fingernails down your back when you hover above me. I didn't give a shit if others knew it too, and you didn't give a shit if others could make me moan the same way you did. For the record, I only did it with three other guys-----not nearly half as much as you cheated with, and never with a girl.

6. Our friends had a running bet with growing stakes about which one of us will end up in jail first and which one of us will get the longer sentence.

We're dumb teenage boys with too much privileges than we deserved, and so of course we strayed from the good golden path. It's not a surprise and it's not like either of us thought we were going somewhere over the rainbow. Your permanent record was as spotty as a leapard's back and me, well, I was just as guilty if not better at not getting caught. But that's the thing, see----you never cared if your name was circled in red. You didn't care about much at all.

7. You can't sleep at night and I had a thing for self-inflicted pain.

Since that day when we finally met at the playground and battled it out, I was no stranger to 2:46 am calls and my parents wouldn't have noticed if I threw a party with the whole of our school at our house in the middle of the night. You'd be on the swings when I snuck out the back door in my worn old shorts and faded tshirt, you'd be throwing rocks at my window like you're some cute boy in those cheesy chick flicks, you'd be waiting in the back of your sleek black car parked across my street. And I'd wake up in the morning alone with new bruises and scratches and hickeys in the weirdest places and two nights later, I'd be responding to your stupid fucking winky faced texts again.

8. You shop at Hot Topic and you forced me to accompany you.

I don't even like shopping for food. And it was your fault we got banned from the store anyway-----it's not like I'd ever look good in tight black skinnies and screamo band tees, but you had to drag me into the change room with that stupid cocky smirk of yours and try to strip me down while you took selfies like it's the end of the world----goddammit, you know I could never keep my voice down and fuck you for your stupid impulsive ideas and fuck me for going along with it. At least no one's car got destroyed and that employee only got a black eye.

9. You couldn't say sorry for save your life and I couldn't be bothered to save a life.

They called us heartless bastards behind our backs and you suggested we get those two words tattooed across our backs like we were some kind of sworn brothers in a scary leather-adorned biker gang. Four letter words were the bane of your existence and yet you were a smooth as fuck liar and I laughed because even if you shoved your way through a crowd, I'd still follow because I was too lazy and fucked up on the inside to fork a path of my own. You lived with this kind of urgency to taste everything spicy, even if you got burned you'd still be dancing atop the flames at a precarious height and I'd be standing at the bottom because no one had ever taught me how to be compassionate or kind or what the fuck love was, and because if Cupid ever bothered with me, that little baby faced devil had a twisted sense of humour for sticking me with you.

10. You take more than you deserve and I don't want anything more than what I deserve.

You self-righteous, self-assured, self-centered, self-deprecating, self-confident, self-destructive piece of shit. You give me that smile after your fists fly through the window and blood is running down my arm and you expect me to kiss it better, you expect me to stay and put up with your shit, you expect me to be here, because you know that I could never leave. Where else would I go? I let you break that glass because I know there isn't a place for me up there. And fine, whatever the fuck, man. You were going right down with me.

-You bastard, you have the gall to send this back to me:

1 reason why we are meant to be:
Who the fuck else would let us crash and burn like the firecracker weapons of mass destruction we are?