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Shorts
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| What They Said and What They Thought | |
| By Ane | ||||||||||
| 23 July 2008 | ||||||||||
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Ok this is an experiment, just want some feed back on if anybody likes it or not. It's not much of a story, more like a scene or a messed up poem; I just want to see if it's something worth expanding or using. Just for reference, if you get confused: What they said is in normal type. What he thought is in italics. What she thought is in bold. “You get so angry,” he told her. Her calm temper spiked. “I don’t even care,” she lied, her passive-aggressive nature curling his fists and boiling his nerves. “Why do you even hang around with me?” “Nothing better to do.” “You’ve been a bitch all night.” “You should be used to that by now.” Because I love you and I know that telling you won’t change a god-damned thing. He shook his head and averted his eyes. “What am I to you?” And what have I let you become to me? “I don’t know how to answer that,” and she was again stuck in a question with no right answer. You’re so much more than I could trust you to know. “You are so difficult!” “You are so closed!” “Says the fucking pot to the fucking kettle.” “What I feel doesn’t need to affect you.” I’ll never let someone know how gullible I am. Not again. “But it does.” He stammered over his words. I shouldn’t tell her. I already know. “I think I love you.” Just tell him. How can he not know? Why bother? We both know he’ll never leave her. A long pause. Not the answer he wanted. “I think I love you too.” Why couldn’t he just know what I feel, the way I think I do with him? “I can never tell with you. I never know when to believe you.” “Well sorry.” You still saw through me more than anyone else I’ve ever met. “I really like spending time with you,” his voice dwindled to a mutter as he kicked himself for the mess he was in. Any guy would be lucky to have her; and I could but I don’t. I don’t know what to do. She opened her mouth to pour out her hopes. She doesn’t care. He loves me. He’ll leave me. We could be happy together. I know I’m only a temporary indulgence, but I hope it’s not true. She could just be waiting for someone better to come along. I don’t know what’s going to happen. She abandoned her hopes. “We have to pretend this conversation never happened.” “Why?” An unnecessary question. “We were never supposed to get complicated.” Her voice— the perpetual mask. You’ll never know. “I’ll try to keep things as they were.” She doesn’t even know...
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