I feel like sharing a story...

So I'm bored and going through some of my writing from my good old college days. Sigh. I found a piece that I started back in February and never got around to finishing. I would say that it is FICTION, but it is slightly based on true events. For those of you who know me well, you will probably know who/what I am talking about. If not, just take it as fiction and enjoy. : )


Writing Exercise due February 24, 2009

I have a habit of ignoring the bad things and focusing on the good. Case and point, my ex-boyfriend Josh. I ignored his drinking, and the drugs. I excused his worthless behavior and the fact that he couldn’t keep a job. I pardoned him for every missed dinner date, or forgotten anniversary. I gave him an inch and he ran a freaking marathon. But he never forgot to say “I love you” at the end of every phone call. Something about those three little words kept me around for two and half years. Looking back now, I see a lot of bad. But my brain tells my heart to look past that. If I look back, way back to the beginning, there was a love so good, it made Romeo and Juliet look like child’s play.
I remember the first day we met. It was my sixteenth birthday. Instead of having a party, I went to my friend Chelsea’s party. She begged me one day in school not to have a party on the same day as hers because then all of our friends would have to choose between the two of us. Big f-ing deal, right?
When I arrived at Chelsea’s house with my friend Jessica, we could smell the hotdogs grilling in the backyard. Chelsea’s boyfriend had recently started a band and they had agreed to play some of their new songs as a birthday present to her.
“No charge,” he told her one day as we sat at the lunch table together.
I could hear the band tuning up as I made my way around the side of the house. Sophomore year marked the beginning of my “emo” phase, and I had the outfit to prove it. My pink and black old school vans matched perfectly with my jean skirt and studded belt. On top I wore a black t-shirt that said, “I’m with the band” in bold white letters. When we finally reached the backyard, Jessica and I headed up to the deck to find Chelsea. Like always, Chelsea had gone over the top with decorations. There was a huge banner hanging from the roof that read, “Happy Sweet 16 Chelsea!” Streamers and balloons covered every inch of the deck. Christmas lights were draped around the fence (even though it was the middle of the day). Secretly, I wanted to go up to the banner and cross off Chelsea’s name and add my own. We found Chelsea standing by the cake with her boyfriend Andrew hanging all over her.
“Hey girls! Thanks for coming!”
“Yea, totally! I’ll just pretend like it’s my party too right!”
Chelsea didn’t catch the sarcasm in my words but I didn’t really care. I turned to check out the band and that’s when I saw him. He had the most beautiful hair I have ever seen. When the sun hit it just right, individual strands lit up like precious gold. And the texture; it made me want to run my fingers through it and twirl it round and round. I know that sounds really creepy. But he had beaten me to it. He was standing on the deck with his bass strapped around his neck. One hand was in his pocket, and the other one was anxiously twirling his beautiful locks. His eyes darted around the yard nervously. When they finally met my gaze I could see they were blue. Not a pale blue, more like a blue that matches the sky on its brightest day. He was tall, and a little on the skinny side. His Bright Eyes t-shirt was faded and a little on the snug side. I wanted to talk to him but I didn’t know how. The last thing I wanted was to resort to asking Chelsea for help.
As I’m standing there I wonder what his name is. Probably something sexy like Brayden or Chase. In this moment I want to know him. I want to be close enough to smell him, to touch him, to taste his sun kissed skin.