Conversation

“Let’s talk about past loves.”

“Pass.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?”

“I said, pass. I pass.”

“I don’t accept your pass today. Talk about your past love.”

“None. There. Happy?”

“None? Impossible.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No. I’m asking you. I’m sure you’ve had some prior experience.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. Well…you’re already twenty years old—that’s two decades—”

“You are mocking me.”

“I wasn’t, and I’m not. Seriously. No first loves, first kisses, first fight…?”

“If you’re talking about reciprocated love, then none.”

“None?”

“None. No one’s liked me enough to love me back.”

“But I’m sure there’s someone who told you they liked you. Right?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s different, because it just so happened that I don’t like that person back.”

“Well then, tell me about your first love then, even if it wasn’t really…”

“Reciprocated.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Well, I liked this guy who I thought likes me back. Turns out he likes my friend, not me.”

“And?”

“That’s it. What, you want me to say that I stole that guy away from my friend?”

No. Did your friend like him back?”

“You really know how to re-open a girl’s wounds, huh?”

“Oops. Didn’t mean to. So that means…?”

“Yes, they got together and I was hurt. Blah, blah, end of story.”

“Was there any other love besides that?”

“Sure. I’ve got tons of crushes and loves.”

“I meant real love. You know, when you really feel it.”

“There’s one.”

“Spill.”

“Well, this one’s that one love I thought would be mine. He liked me back.”

“Wait. I thought there wasn’t any you liked who liked you back?”

“Fine, he’s an exception. The exception. But just because he liked me back doesn’t mean it was any less hurtful than all the other ones.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it just turned out he was in a relationship with someone. I was the one meddling in.”

“Whoa.”

“I know, right? Back then, I didn’t really care. I mean, that was my shot, right? His girlfriend…well, she was pretty and outgoing and could have any other guy aside from him. And then there’s me. I mean, look at me!”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up. Seriously, that’s not funny. I didn’t even know why in the world he’d like me, but he did.”

“So he broke up with his girlfriend?”

“No.”

What?! That’s sick of him.”

“What can you do? He doesn’t want to hurt her.”

“And you think that by not breaking up with her he’s not hurting her? What about you? Did you ask him to break up with her?”

“No, I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want him to leave me.”

What?! Stupid girl.”

“…”

“You should have said something. If he liked you enough, he’d do it.”

“I know, right? Stupid, impossible girl.”

“Hey…are you…crying?”

“…I really did love him, you know. That’s why I couldn’t ask him anything else, because I knew he was already torn up inside. It wasn’t like we were kissing or doing anything…bad, honestly, but we just kept seeing each other. That was enough for me.”

“No, that’s not.”

“Huh?”

“Enough–that’s not enough. Not for anyone, including you. What you need is someone who will give you more than enough. Someone who will leave everything to be with you. Anyone who can’t do that doesn’t deserve you.”

“You make me sound like I’m some super special girl. I’m not.”

“You are.”

“You say that as if you know me. We hardly know each other.”

“Well then, I’d like to.”

“Like to what?”

“Know you.”

Note: This has been in my WordPress drafts since the 11th of May, 2010. I don’t know what made me write it, or why, but I’m posting it now just because, well, this place has been dead for a while. 😀 It needs more ideas, even lame ones (well…almost all my stories are lame, but whatever).

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