I'm one of those people that looks back and thinks, damn, I could have done that way better, god I wish I could replay that, fuck where is the 'restart life' button, I could rock this shit if I got a do over.
So I express myself through them, I write angry scenes, I write conversations I wanted to have but wasn't brave enough to have, I write things the way I wish they'd of gone. It's partially wish fulfilment.
I actually used to let you-know-who read them sometimes... It's hard to believe looking back on it, but for the few weeks before HSC, we were like A grade flirting and... I don't know, but incredibly comfortable with the fact that we were 'plutonic' or in the past sort of, but no matter now much we told each other that, it didn't stop us from a) acknowledging the fact that we sort of had a thing and that I'd liked/likes him and that I was special to him too and b) flirting, teasing, nicknames, lots of talking and way more sexual that was appropriate. We'd hit this new peak of status quo.
So yeah, I wrote stories about us, mostly copying real dialogue than moving into new territory where I was either pissed at him, and though I didn't let him read this stuff originally, I did end up giving him the next parts, where we usually ended up kissing. I think I told him that they were old, that I didn't feel that way anymore. Maybe that's how we got to where we were, out loud both of us were constantly telling each other 'you love me' and getting responses like 'you wish' or 'in your dreams' or being like 'aww but you think I'm sexy :P' and replying 'lol no.' I'm just making these up right now but stuff like that. If you can flirt through denial, that's basically us. Or maybe I was just creating subtext that wasn't there but as always, I rebut that with, no he kissed me, that's the proof he liked me, that's not subtext, therefore the subtext is legit.
I'm writing one scene now set the day we kissed for the first time. Right before I left when I knew... once I leave, we aren't gonna talk about this again and it's gonna get messy. I knew but I didn't talk to him about it. I let him joke around and smile and be friendly because I was happy, but I should have moved past that and been much less passive and done something.
I did the same thing at schoolies, the morning after, I wrote this before he got up I think and I told my best friend, "yes I will have a conversation with him, we will talk about this."
Anyway, here is that schoolies conversation I never had. You might notice I don't actually have him speak like, at all. Sometimes I want him too but then I realise the catharsis of writing these is the telling him of my thoughts, the rest is quite irrelevant.
----------
“I want to talk.” I admitted,
looking at him for a moment.
“Yeah?
What did you have in mind?”
“I’m
upset with you, a little. I mean, I know I always am but…”
“So
what’d I do this time?”
“I
kind of want to talk about what we don’t usually talk about…”
He
looked wary, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s
up, Luc?”
“You
know how we’re supposed to be platonic friends now? Well, the thing is…” I
hesitated. “I don’t want to be.” He didn’t say anything. I didn’t think he
would. “I mean, we’re kind of fucked up I know, but—you do like me right? I
mean, you wouldn’t—we wouldn’t have—unless you
did. But both times we did…as well as every other time anything happens with us, it’s like we do it with this understanding that
yes, it means something, but nothing will ever come of it. And I just wanted to
say… I don’t understand why.”
“Why what Lucy?”
“Why… you can’t choose me.” I
blinked fast. “I mean, I know she's is your girlfriend…and I’m… I don’t even
know, but you could. You could choose me. I
could be your girlfriend. I want to be. I’m admitting it.”
“Lucy, you know I can’t…” He said slowly. I felt the first well of tears but looked upwards, my eyelashes
flickering rapidly to keep them in. My hands were shaking but I just wanted to
say it. I just wanted it to be over in some ways. Just didn’t want to let this
stay unsaid, because it was so fucking
frustrating.
“No, you could. Look, I know we fight like 24/7 and you’re constantly abusing me and
my ribs are practically bruised from all the jabbing you do but we are good together. I honestly believe we’d work.” I licked my lips
nervously. “Don’t you?”
“Luc—”
“I’m just trying to tell you that it
could be an option. I know you said it wasn’t a
choice but maybe I want it to be. At least if you admit it’s a choice, I’ll
understand where I stand with you. Kissing me and just saying sorry, I don’t
understand that. I know you have reasons for not being about to choose, or
maybe just reasons for not being able to choose me and I accept that—sort of. Actually no—that’s a lie. Because every
time you kiss me, or… every time you hug me and don’t let go straight away or I
don’t know, anything, I just get stupidly
hopeful, but it’s not even that stupid, because you give me the most fucking
mixed signals. Half the time I don’t have a clue if you even give a single fuck
about me at all, but then other times I know you really care. So I take what I
know, but then you just look past me the next time I see you and I just feel…bad
but at the same time, I get enough from you I don’t
stop liking you. I just get deeper and fucking
deeper.
“I know what you’re going to say
now. I know you aren’t going to break up with her. But I had to—I had to
ask. Maybe just to work out where I stand with you because right now, if you
kiss me, I hesitate but I kiss back and it’s because I love you and I just
think—there’s a chance right? If I say no here, if I walk away, I’m walking
away from everything. All chances. But I’m also really fucking insecure when it
comes to you. Not exactly the best thing to admit but you scare me. Because you
have this power over me that I don’t even
remember giving you, because you can hurt me so damn easily, because I couldn’t
not invest all this emotion into you. So… I
guess I just want to know…why not?”
------
I've always thought of this piece of writing as the 'me admitting to you-know-who I want to be his girlfriend' scene. I mean, a lot was going on in there but I think that was the key part. It was time to stop the denials. The first time we kissed, I told him I loved him. And when he told me I deserved more than him, I told him I didn't want more. The second was less honest. Yeah I said something about him having a girlfriend and how that sucked. That was before we did anything, I did push him away at first, I did try... but after that it was more flirting than anything else. The main thing I noticed similar in the two cases was the confidence I felt with him. I mean, he was one of my best friends, I could almost speak my mind before but it was a different kind of freedom when we were in romantic zone, rather than platonic. I never felt more comfortable with myself I guess, even just physically. Normally I hate my body and am insecure about a lot of things, but on those days I just felt good with myself.
But anyway, I wanted a conversation while I was confident, while I was sure and secure. So that's the conversation I should have had, where I told him what he must have already known. I wanted to be with him, I wanted a relationship, I wanted him to be my boyfriend. I never ever told you-know-who anything along the lines of "You should break up with her and be with me." The closest I ever got was telling him 'You have to think about it really hard and make a decision because it's a big deal and the most important thing is that you're happy. Even if that's not with me but just, by the way, I really really hope it is."
I should have told him. Oh well.
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