Teenage Angst in Form of Prose

[oh it is ON]

(Here are some of my more angsty pieces from about a year or so ago that I thought I'd post just for old-times' sake. Read, please. Review if you like, but it's not like I'm actively working on these pieces or anything.)

“A Late Night… or Early Morning?”
It was late… or was it early? He’d always debated that point with himself thousands of times. It’s not like it matters anyways, but it kept his mind preoccupied so he didn’t have to think about the one thing he always thought about, her. At the current time, he was in a state of complete emotional confusion. What exactly was going on?

Somewhere deep within him, an underlying feeling told him that everything was wrong. He shouldn’t have ever met her, she made life so much harder for him, and now he was doing the same thing. He was extra baggage, but she insisted that he was a necessity. It seemed like they were only words, though. “Sticks and stones…” No, even the kindest words can do as much damage as the harshest insults. Feigned love is more brutal than open hatred.

Yet she continually insisted that words she had spoken were truth, absolute truth. Then why was there so little action? She had even said so herself, “I believe that actions speak louder than words.” What kind of conclusion was he to draw from the obvious contradiction of her stated beliefs? His mind was swimming… more appropriately, floundering in confusion, attempting to find understanding. She loved him, she didn’t act like it, yet she told him hundreds of times by now that he should believe what she says and not what she does… What to do? Nothing, absolutely nothing could be done. Once again, he found himself backed up against a wall with no options but to ponder the options themselves.

In spite of all this turmoil, he chose to stick it through. Why on earth should he… would he? There was no logical sense in this; he was losing sleep, losing time, losing energy, giving up anything he could… to gain what? Then it struck him, he wasn’t in it to gain anything. What would his love be if he expected something in return? It would be shallow, artificial, and superficial at best. Maybe this showed the depth of his love…

Who would have guessed that love could be so difficult, though? He was tired, so tired. In his mind, he had been giving… giving… giving… and she would receive… receive… receive… with nothing more than a simple smile that seemed forced and the three simple words, “I love you.” Had he been a fool to fall for her? Perhaps, but in the moment that she told him that she loved him, he knew that he would rather be this fool than the wise man who was alone.

That didn’t make things any easier for him, though. He found that his own doubts of her had led him to ultimately doubt himself and destroy himself. It was an interesting situation; he found himself such a hypocrite and she did too. How they had managed this far was still a mystery in his mind. Maybe she really was desperate and he seemed like a relatively decent option. He could never really know for certain – she would never tell him, even if that were the case, and nobody else knew, in all actuality.

His eyes grew weary and began shutting. It was all null anyways; all that mattered was that he truly believed he loved her. That’s where he stood. Where they’d end up would be left in the hands of fate and time, but that’s all he needed.  

[oh it is ON]

“Theatre”
I didn’t even exist. “How the hell did that happen?” I thought. I found that it was better that I hadn’t come to the movie alone with her or I would have been completely on my own. At least I had friends to help maintain my humor.

All she did was look up. “We’ll give ‘him’ a few more minutes,” she’d say, desperately searching and hoping that “he” would come. The moment that she smiled at my arrival was not even comparable to the frustration and anguish that wrought her expression for the eternity that “he” did not show up. I’d been hoping that we could enjoy the movie and that my only concern would be keeping my jealousy in check, but this was far worse.

I’d become an afterthought; she hadn’t even originally intended or desired for me to be there; why did she even bother? I suppose she felt obligated to since I was, after all, her boyfriend. All tonight had done for me was show where her mind and heart truly lied that night. It was only one night out of many, though, right? I shook my head and forced a smile in an attempt to shrug it all off. Oh no, this didn’t turn out at all how I had expected. At least if “he” had come, there would have been a chance to battle for her attention (and most likely lose), but now there would be no battle; I would lose simply by default.

She looked up again, stood on her tiptoes, and tried to peer through the crowd. It had already been fifteen minutes that she simply searched for “him,” hoping that “he” would be there, totally neglecting that I was already here. I sighed and turned away. “Why do you do this to me?” my mind asked. “You’re killing me… You’re killing me!” I wanted to shout. Why would she claim to love me so much and want to only be with me when I was but a slight distraction from the actual reason she wanted to come? It just didn’t add up to me.

It took a while, but she finally did focus on me some, but she was distant at best. I knew exactly why; the fight earlier today, the hope of “him” showing up, and the fact that I was… just me. “He” never came, much to her dismay and surprisingly enough to mine as well. I’d found that even if it killed me to watch her flirt with “him” and ignore me, I would have known that she was happy. It would have been enough; a great enough sacrifice on my part. Now I couldn’t even give that, I was left to watch helplessly as she tried to disguise her disappointment and act happy for me. It tore me apart to watch the charade.

She didn’t want me… I never thought I’d hurt this badly over something so trivial.