BLEEDING LOVE
January 8th 2008 13:38
“A lot of French films have a quirky narrator guy,” he told me once in the car, right after he accidentally hit the window wiper, and I knew it was an accident because it wasn’t raining, there was no water at all.
I knew he was cheating on me because I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep at all, honest, and I’d turn around, and then I’d listen to some music, which didn’t help at all, and I didn’t want to read any books, I wasn’t in the mood to read, honest, I really wasn’t. I didn’t want to call any of my friends because they were probably tired of me crying about it all.
He told me that he loved me one week after we started going out. We were walking somewhere and I was wearing my best friend’s dress, which was a little skanky, I thought, but it was still pretty, in a way, really. I hesitated for a second, but then I said, I love you, too.
I told him I loved him before he went out tonight, because I didn’t want him to cheat on me, but he was going to go ahead and do it, anyway, he was going to cheat and his lips would be on this other girl. How did she kiss? She’d probably dress up for him, too, because that’s what I used to do when I first started going out with him, I had my eyeliner on and everything, and I shaved my legs and everything, and I liked it when he checked me out, his eyes moving up and down and everything.
What are you wearing? he’d always ask me randomly. What are you wearing? What underwear?
I wonder what love is. It’s not exactly happiness, is it? I know you’re happy during the first couple of weeks, but then it becomes something else. It’s a pretty disgusting thing, really. You only know you love someone when you don’t want that person with anyone else. It’s like a deranged sort of neediness that we feed off, really. But I guess it’s pretty good, too, loving is pretty good because you’ll always have a date to go with during all those parties, and someone will message you and stuff, and you can just lie there and hug and stuff, which I don’t know why is good, but people go on and do it anyway, and if you get rejected by some cute guy, you can go, well, I have a boyfriend, anyway.
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