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The Eclectic Pen - You

By: Justina C. (stinasstoryspot)   + 13 more  
Date Submitted: 11/19/2008
Genre: Literature & Fiction
Words: 579
Rating:

Am I in love with you? Ok. Ok. We don’t really know each other that well. Love is too strong a word. Am I in like with you, then? That’s silly. I know I like you, otherwise I wouldn’t feel so conflicted. So here’s the question; is there something between like and love? And if there is, am I there? Okay, that’s two questions, but that’s not the point. Here’s the thing. When you’re in love… like… that thing between like and love… loke maybe? When you’re there aren’t you supposed to think about the other person all the time? That’s what the facebook bumper stickers all say. But I don’t think about you all the time. I think about you sometimes, but not all the time. I think about spending time with you. I think about you meeting my family. I think about meeting your family. I’m afraid your mother wouldn’t like me because she’s traditional and I’m white. I think about doing things I shouldn’t think about doing with you. But I don’t think about you all the time. I’ve never thought about writing about you… before now of course. That’s certainly different from the last guy I had a crush on. I was in my first creative writing class and too much bad poetry was about him. But I get jealous when I think about you being with someone else. Maybe not jealous exactly, but I get this funny feeling in my tummy and my heart feels sad. We don’t really know each other that well. I don’t know what you know about me. I know that you have two brothers. I know where you’re from. I know where you work. I know what you do on a very basic level, but that’s mostly because I don’t understand what you do. I know that your college graduation was marred with tragedy, but I’ve never mentioned it. I haven’t wanted to bring it up. I know what TV shows you like to watch, some of them anyway. I know what kind of car you drive. I know that you’re allergic to nuts. I don’t know your brother’s names. I don’t know any funny stories from high school. I don’t know how you take your coffee. I didn’t know your phone number until this past weekend. I don’t know a lot of things. But is it the stuff that I don’t know that’s important? I want to know. Doesn’t that count? You’re a nice guy, a true gentleman, most of the time at least. You hold the umbrella for me in the rain (or try to at least – the fact that you’re so much taller than me makes it not overly effective). You’re a southern gentleman, just like I’m sure you were raised to be. You pick on me, but that’s one of the things I like about you. Can I be honest? That’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place. The first time we met you laughed at me and called me a “closet geek.” What does it say about my self-esteem that I took picking on me as an attractive trait? So am I in between like and love with you? Am I in between like and love with the idea of being in between like and love? Is that an okay place to be? I sure hope so, because I don’t really have time to travel right now.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Justina C. (stinasstoryspot)

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