Love Never Wanted Me

8

"She's not my girlfriend..."

Patrick's words to his ex- keep playing through my mind as we kiss. It was only yesterday when he said that to her and yet, here he is: holding me close and kissing me as if he'd always wanted to. Maybe he has? Maybe he's felt like this since that night in the hospital. But then why did he say that to Elsa?

If I'm not his girlfriend, then what am I? What does this kiss mean?

"I'm glad we're becoming friends..."

Friends. That's what he said he wanted us to be and I gladly accepted. But this is so much more than friendship! Did he mean friends with benefits? God, I hope not. I've always hated that phrase and it never works out for anyone. Feelings always get in the way and someone always ends up heartbroken.

We pull apart just a bit, foreheads still touching. We look into one another's eyes, both of us breathing heavily. I have so many questions, but I can't seem to find the words to speak them. All I can do is look into those pale green eyes and hope that he isn't using me. I don't want to be his rebound or some kind of spur of the moment fling.

If he wants to be with me, then it needs to be for real. I've had my feelings taken advantage of before and I won't go through that again. That's why I told Patrick not to go away; I've had my heart broken before. It was a long time ago and I knew the guy wasn't worth it, but him leaving still broke my heart. I don't want to think that Patrick could be that kind of person.

God, I hope not.

"What is it?" He asks, moving his hand from the back of my head to gently cup the side of my face, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I reply, placing my hands on his shoulders, "I just, um, didn't expect this." Patrick lets out a disappointed sigh and starts to pull away, but I quickly pull him back against me; "But I'm glad it happened." I whisper before placing another kiss on his un-expecting lips.

He softly kisses me back and we start to intertwine our hands. My heart wants things to keep going but my head is telling me to stop and talk to him. I know that's what I should do; I need to know his intentions before I can let this go any further. Reluctantly, I pull my lips away from his.

"Come here," I say, pulling him toward the fire escape. Without question, Patrick holds my hand and follows me out.

We climb the old metal stairs down just a flight to my apartment. The lock on my fire escape is busted so it's easy for me to open it from the outside (completely unsafe, I know). I fiddle with the handle a bit and then slide it open. Giving Patrick's hand a squeeze, I motion for him to follow me inside. Once we're in my apartment, I pull him close to me again and we wrap our arms around one another in a warm embrace.

"We should talk about this, right?" He asks, sounding unsure of himself.

"You think?" I sarcastically reply, nuzzling my head under his chin, "I'm...I'm not upset or anything like that. I just... What are we doing, Patrick? What is this?"

Patrick lets out a heavy sigh and places a soft kiss on the top of my head; "Would you be mad at me if I said, 'I don't know'," he bashfully replies.

"No, not mad," I reply, "but you've got to do better than that."

"I'm sorry," he sighs, "but, Lilah, trust me when I say this: I wanted to kiss you just now. We're practically strangers, so if you're mad at me for kissing you, I get it."

"I'm not mad at you," I reiterate, "I just want to know if...if this is going somewhere. I like you, Patrick, I really do. I... I could see myself being with you, but only if you want to be together. I don't want to be an emotional backboard for you."