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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Relationships
- Published: 08/28/2010
Untitled
Born 1990, F, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesWe're at a party. The music is blaring, some unrecognizable song- it doesn't matter, not to me.
I grip my plastic red cup tighter; The drink is clean, non-alcoholic. My peers are dancing, slaves to the beat of the unknown song. They are at the mercy of the DJ. I swirl my non-alcoholic drink twice, then scan the crowd for you.
I lost you the second we arrived. One moment we are closing the door to your beat up station wagon and the next you are gone, out of my sight.
The party is boring, I've checked my watch several times. But I'm too much of a coward to find you and tell you that I want to leave.
You're having fun- being drunk.
What happened to us?
More importantly, what happened to you?
I thought it was fine, I thought everything was fine. But then here we are, juniors in highschool pretending to be college freshmen so we could sneak into this ''totally awesome, super fantastic party!" Whatever, I'm above that.
But not you, I want you to come back to me, I want you to go back to the way you were before.
Fat chance of that happening anytime soon, right?
I scan the crowd again, I find you up against the wall laughing, snorting at something a girl is saying. The girl has large shoulders, like an ox.. She is wearing a tight green shirt. My eyes linger over you.
Dark, curly hair slightly curled.
Big brown eyes dizzy with drunken-ness.
Your dark skin glowing in the night.
God, I miss you.
I lick my lips and slam my plastic red cup down on the end table close to me. I make my way through the crowd- pushing into different bodies, different smells, and touch. The crowd is an animal, it’s not several individuals, it’s just a blob of sweat and lust grinding and pulling on each other.
But, somehow, I get out.
The girl with the ox shoulders and tight green shirt has left, you are alone, swaying your hips to the song and guzzling down your drink.
I want to have you, now.
I grab your hand; you make not a sound as I drag you into the bathroom and shut the door.
You let me shove you against the wall, your lips obey as I crash mine onto yours. I want to press my whole being against you. I want to find where we went wrong. I’m pushing into you deeper and digging my nails into your curls.
Your arms are loosely wrapped around my waist and you moan when I touch that one spot where you like to be touched.
"I miss you," I hiss huskily against your cheek as you turn the tables and slam me against the wall. "P-Patrick?" I quiver.
You pull back and shake your head. “I’m sorry Carly.” Your eyes suddenly look sober. “We can’t… I ca-”
Untitled(Allison Kleery)
We're at a party. The music is blaring, some unrecognizable song- it doesn't matter, not to me.
I grip my plastic red cup tighter; The drink is clean, non-alcoholic. My peers are dancing, slaves to the beat of the unknown song. They are at the mercy of the DJ. I swirl my non-alcoholic drink twice, then scan the crowd for you.
I lost you the second we arrived. One moment we are closing the door to your beat up station wagon and the next you are gone, out of my sight.
The party is boring, I've checked my watch several times. But I'm too much of a coward to find you and tell you that I want to leave.
You're having fun- being drunk.
What happened to us?
More importantly, what happened to you?
I thought it was fine, I thought everything was fine. But then here we are, juniors in highschool pretending to be college freshmen so we could sneak into this ''totally awesome, super fantastic party!" Whatever, I'm above that.
But not you, I want you to come back to me, I want you to go back to the way you were before.
Fat chance of that happening anytime soon, right?
I scan the crowd again, I find you up against the wall laughing, snorting at something a girl is saying. The girl has large shoulders, like an ox.. She is wearing a tight green shirt. My eyes linger over you.
Dark, curly hair slightly curled.
Big brown eyes dizzy with drunken-ness.
Your dark skin glowing in the night.
God, I miss you.
I lick my lips and slam my plastic red cup down on the end table close to me. I make my way through the crowd- pushing into different bodies, different smells, and touch. The crowd is an animal, it’s not several individuals, it’s just a blob of sweat and lust grinding and pulling on each other.
But, somehow, I get out.
The girl with the ox shoulders and tight green shirt has left, you are alone, swaying your hips to the song and guzzling down your drink.
I want to have you, now.
I grab your hand; you make not a sound as I drag you into the bathroom and shut the door.
You let me shove you against the wall, your lips obey as I crash mine onto yours. I want to press my whole being against you. I want to find where we went wrong. I’m pushing into you deeper and digging my nails into your curls.
Your arms are loosely wrapped around my waist and you moan when I touch that one spot where you like to be touched.
"I miss you," I hiss huskily against your cheek as you turn the tables and slam me against the wall. "P-Patrick?" I quiver.
You pull back and shake your head. “I’m sorry Carly.” Your eyes suddenly look sober. “We can’t… I ca-”
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