cool » l. hemmings

xviii.

⇉ luke ⇇

Over the course of my life I've noticed one thing; a single, repetitive thing.

I always liked a girl too quickly. Whenever it wasn't too quickly, I was always the one to be let down by the fact that I was too clingy. I was the most clingy bastard in the whole of the universe and it's always come back to ruin my chances with anyone. I'm sure I've scared Michelle away, I haven't really spoken to her in two days.

That part was kind of my fault. I had no idea why I said what I said on Tuesday but it happened and I so awkwardly changed the subject as soon as I was finished with my endless rambles. I told the truth, though. I didn't regret what I said. But I regretted how and when I decided to. It didn't matter that she told me she felt the same, because in reality I knew she didn't; she didn't understand the extent of this feeling. I didn't understand it.

I felt absolutely horrible for even contemplating cheating. It's an evil feeling and I'm not sure how people live with it. I can't even find one person to like me, I don't know how people manage to find two.

I'm not a bad person. I keep to myself, there's nothing wrong with me. I think - I hope. I don't understand why I all of a sudden want to become a bad person.

My mind automatically landed on the thought of Michelle when ever I questioned the idea of actually cheating. She was the only reason I was thinking about it, and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"Babe, are you listening?"

"Yeah, yeah." These two days, not hanging out with Michelle made me need the attention Brooke gave me. It wasn't the same as Michelle. And I knew that, because even in the month I've known her she's made me do more than I ever have - I never used to even leave the house other than to get Ethan from school or to visit Brooke, and even then she'd come to my house most of the time.

I even stopped smoking as much as I used to. There wasn't a reason I needed to anymore, I wasn't uncomfortable with all of the people around me like I was when I hung out with Brooke and her friends. I wasn't stressed, though the past week I have been due to drowning myself in overthinking absolutely everything in my life up to this point.

There's no way I even made it obvious that I was going to just pour these confusing thoughts and feelings onto her, which is why I was afraid. I haven't acted like anything but a friend to her, because I was confused. I don't think I'm confused anymore. I just don't understand. I don't understand the fact that I don't understand, because it was clear to me that it was easy to figure out.

"You're so not paying attention," Brooke groaned. She was laying up on my bed. I was staring off at the ceiling. She was talking about how some girl back home was getting on her nerves, while I was thinking about how some girl here was getting to be the only great part about moving.

I felt bad. Not for who or about I should.

I had the urge to do it, to just say, 'hey, yeah, you may be on my bed but a girl who I've realized is so unbelievably and annoyingly adorable slept there a few days ago. so I think we should end it, you can have sex with whoever you please without having to cheat on me. which you're probably thinking about doing.'

But that wouldn't be civil.

So I didn't do it. And for a second I regretted it.

"I know that you're annoyed with that girl Alex who won't stop starting shit with you and you want to take a rock to her face and hit her with it repeatedly," I almost laughed. Almost. I wasn't happy enough to show any sign that I might be.