All I Have
Posted: Wed May 09, 2012 3:03 pm
Don't worry, still working on Shower Scenes, but I had another idea I just had to shake out of my head real quick. Anyway, here it is. This is just a one shot. I have no plans on continuing it o adding to it. If you want to do so yourself, go ahead.
All I Have
It’s been several weeks since he came up to me in the library. We had talked once or twice before, but I'm not exactly known for my conversation skills and he always seemed to have somebody else pulling him away to do something. At that point, I suppose the best you can say is that we both knew who each other was.
That afternoon, he pulled up a beanbag and spoke before I even noticed him. I don't remember exactly what he said. I was kind of trying to avoid panicking and running off at the time, but I remember he talked about someone being lonely. At the time, he didn't know Lilly had moved away. He knew he hadn't seen her in a while, but he had no idea she was gone for good. He didn't know she was the only friend I had. He wasn't aware that the only person left for me to talk to was a sole porcelain doll sitting by my bed. No. he wanted to talk to me because he was lonely.
It surprised me. He had friends. He even had a girlfriend. It just didn't help. He needed somebody he could talk to, and he couldn't talk to her. It wasn't just because she couldn't talk, he explained. It was the mind games, the constant competitions, the fact that every interaction with her was treated as a challenge. He told me he loved her, but he needed somebody he could just talk with. He needed somebody he could let his guard down around and relax with. He chose me, because he said it looked like I could use a friend.
We talked for hours. I think it was the longest conversation I had ever had in my life and there wasn't a single minute I didn't want to run away, but I forced myself to stay. I know what it's like being lonely. I've been lonely most of my life.
We didn't talk in class the next day. We didn't eat lunch together or acknowledge each other in the hall ways, but we met again, after school to talk.
Then we met the day after that, then the day after that.
We didn't sit down to talk every day, but it became increasingly more common. If he wasn't bust doing homework or with his girlfriend, he'd come talk to me. I was never too busy for him. We only met when we were alone though. If anybody was around, we kept our distance. He once said something about it being his little victory over her. Our friendship was something he didn't want her to ruin. It felt nice having a friend again.
It turned out we had a lot in common. We both read a lot. We both enjoyed simple games. We played more for relaxation and fun than any real competition. He said it was a welcome break from her. He talked about her a lot. He loved her. It was obvious he loved her … but I was the one he could talk to. I was the one he could relax with.
Usually we'd meet in my room. We'd talk, we'd read, and we'd play chess. Chess was a particular favorite of his and mine. He played on an old beat up chessboard that he snuck out of the student council office. Mostly we'd talk.
Then something happened. We were talking about the books we were reading one day like we often did. At the time he was reading fantasy novel that he wasn't too interested in and I was interested in even less. I had been reading a romance novel. It wasn't my usual genre, but I had heard good things about it. I was explaining the story's complicated love triangle to him. Maybe I was getting a little too into it. I don't remember. I just remember talking about the romance story and the next thing I knew, he had began to unbutton my blouse.
I was terrified, and shocked, and ecstatic all at the same time. Most people don't touch me. I don't get many handshakes, or pats on the back, or hugs, or anything. People are afraid I'll break or that touching me will hurt me. Most people don't even like to look at me, but here he was, undressing me.
I think he was startled by the extent of my scarring, but he didn't say anything. He didn't stop either. He wanted me and I wanted him. I helped him finish removing my clothes, and then helped him remove his own. Most people don't even want to touch me, but his hands were all over my body. The first time we did that it was … I don't know how to say it…. It was strange, uncomfortable, painful, and humiliating, but at the same time, it felt better than anything has ever felt before. We'd both been living with so many bottled up feelings and so much tension. That night we let them all out.
At first it surprised me, but whatever relationship we had didn't change after that. Sex was simply another thing we did together, like playing chess or talking about our favorite books. We didn't do it because we loved each other. We did it because it made ourselves feel good and it made each other feel good. He told me that he's made love with her twice. Only twice. He and I have had sex four times this week alone. She's the one he loves. I'm the one he sleeps with.
I don't really know what our relationship is. Sometimes I just feel like his dirty little secret, like I'm just a toy he uses to pleasure himself with, but when we talk I can tell otherwise.. He's my friend. He cares about me. He just doesn't love me.
We've graduated today. He spent the day with her. He told me afterwards that he still loves her and doesn't want to let her go. He's going to continue to pursue her.
He made sure I was enrolled at the same college.
I don't know what this relationship is, but it's all I have.
All I Have
It’s been several weeks since he came up to me in the library. We had talked once or twice before, but I'm not exactly known for my conversation skills and he always seemed to have somebody else pulling him away to do something. At that point, I suppose the best you can say is that we both knew who each other was.
That afternoon, he pulled up a beanbag and spoke before I even noticed him. I don't remember exactly what he said. I was kind of trying to avoid panicking and running off at the time, but I remember he talked about someone being lonely. At the time, he didn't know Lilly had moved away. He knew he hadn't seen her in a while, but he had no idea she was gone for good. He didn't know she was the only friend I had. He wasn't aware that the only person left for me to talk to was a sole porcelain doll sitting by my bed. No. he wanted to talk to me because he was lonely.
It surprised me. He had friends. He even had a girlfriend. It just didn't help. He needed somebody he could talk to, and he couldn't talk to her. It wasn't just because she couldn't talk, he explained. It was the mind games, the constant competitions, the fact that every interaction with her was treated as a challenge. He told me he loved her, but he needed somebody he could just talk with. He needed somebody he could let his guard down around and relax with. He chose me, because he said it looked like I could use a friend.
We talked for hours. I think it was the longest conversation I had ever had in my life and there wasn't a single minute I didn't want to run away, but I forced myself to stay. I know what it's like being lonely. I've been lonely most of my life.
We didn't talk in class the next day. We didn't eat lunch together or acknowledge each other in the hall ways, but we met again, after school to talk.
Then we met the day after that, then the day after that.
We didn't sit down to talk every day, but it became increasingly more common. If he wasn't bust doing homework or with his girlfriend, he'd come talk to me. I was never too busy for him. We only met when we were alone though. If anybody was around, we kept our distance. He once said something about it being his little victory over her. Our friendship was something he didn't want her to ruin. It felt nice having a friend again.
It turned out we had a lot in common. We both read a lot. We both enjoyed simple games. We played more for relaxation and fun than any real competition. He said it was a welcome break from her. He talked about her a lot. He loved her. It was obvious he loved her … but I was the one he could talk to. I was the one he could relax with.
Usually we'd meet in my room. We'd talk, we'd read, and we'd play chess. Chess was a particular favorite of his and mine. He played on an old beat up chessboard that he snuck out of the student council office. Mostly we'd talk.
Then something happened. We were talking about the books we were reading one day like we often did. At the time he was reading fantasy novel that he wasn't too interested in and I was interested in even less. I had been reading a romance novel. It wasn't my usual genre, but I had heard good things about it. I was explaining the story's complicated love triangle to him. Maybe I was getting a little too into it. I don't remember. I just remember talking about the romance story and the next thing I knew, he had began to unbutton my blouse.
I was terrified, and shocked, and ecstatic all at the same time. Most people don't touch me. I don't get many handshakes, or pats on the back, or hugs, or anything. People are afraid I'll break or that touching me will hurt me. Most people don't even like to look at me, but here he was, undressing me.
I think he was startled by the extent of my scarring, but he didn't say anything. He didn't stop either. He wanted me and I wanted him. I helped him finish removing my clothes, and then helped him remove his own. Most people don't even want to touch me, but his hands were all over my body. The first time we did that it was … I don't know how to say it…. It was strange, uncomfortable, painful, and humiliating, but at the same time, it felt better than anything has ever felt before. We'd both been living with so many bottled up feelings and so much tension. That night we let them all out.
At first it surprised me, but whatever relationship we had didn't change after that. Sex was simply another thing we did together, like playing chess or talking about our favorite books. We didn't do it because we loved each other. We did it because it made ourselves feel good and it made each other feel good. He told me that he's made love with her twice. Only twice. He and I have had sex four times this week alone. She's the one he loves. I'm the one he sleeps with.
I don't really know what our relationship is. Sometimes I just feel like his dirty little secret, like I'm just a toy he uses to pleasure himself with, but when we talk I can tell otherwise.. He's my friend. He cares about me. He just doesn't love me.
We've graduated today. He spent the day with her. He told me afterwards that he still loves her and doesn't want to let her go. He's going to continue to pursue her.
He made sure I was enrolled at the same college.
I don't know what this relationship is, but it's all I have.
I will edit accordingly.