Thursday, 19 January 2012
02:45:57 AM (GMT)
It's silly, when this guy that you've liked for months breaks up with the girl that
he pretty much chose over you, and then you spend the entire lunch period sort of
staring at each other, and then he gives you and two other people a ride home, and
everything is quite alright, with a bit of flirting, and then he drops them off, and
you talk to him about how you guys used to be so close, and he agrees, and says that
he misses how much you used to talk, and then he pulls into your driveway, and you're
expecting him to not get out of his car and just drive away, when he pulls the key
out of the ignition and gets out to give you a hug.
Not just a hug, a big hug, the kind he used to give you back when he adored you, the
kind of hug that makes it seem like he'll never let go of you, ever, ever, ever, and
he'll just stay there, with his arms wrapped around your waist, and your head rested
on his shoulder, and then you drop your jacket on the ground, and when you finally
let go, you trip over it, but he didn't let go, so you sort of do this weird spinny
And then you pull out your key that's shaped like a house, which you thought was just
oh so clever, and then he makes a comment about how clever whoever made it must think
they are, and you hug again, longer this time, because it's the moment right before
he drives away, and you just can't control yourself and you say, "Hey Austin, I
really miss your hugs. You give like, the best hugs ever. Did you know that? They're
fantastic." And you discuss hugs, and then he turns and is going to leave and you
pick up your things, and right before he starts the car you say, "Can I have one more
hug?" and he just smiles and wraps his arms right back around you, and you sway sort
of, and then he says, "You know, you're like the perfect size and shape for hugging.
your height, and stuff, it's all just perfect." And then it's just like the first
time he kissed you, almost, but he doesn't. The funny thing is, you're not upset,
because it's different this time. and as he finally gets in his car and drives off,
halfway down your driveway he stops and says out the window that he'll text you,
which strikes you as funny, because he's made it very, very clear to everyone how
much he dislikes texting with his old-ass phone. and you say, "I thought you hated
texting?" and he says, "Yeah, I do. Still." And you smile and walk inside and realize
how silly you're being, falling even harder for him, when you know it'll be just like
it was before, but part of you argues that it won't, it's different now.
Because it is. Because all I really want, honestly, is Austin. Not to be mine, or my
boyfriend. I don't really even care what he is, just as long as he's in my life now,
as long as he's there.
It would be nice to date him, but honestly, I'm perfectly fine with whatever I can
get. Even if that's only friendship.