…twisted perception…

she’s laying in bed wishing he would turn over, face her.  but he won’t, and she knows it.  she was about to say i love you just for good measure, but he turned over and now he’s breathing heavy and she assumes he’s asleep.  she lays there looking over him, wishing he was all hers and no one else’s.  this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.  this isn’t right.  the silence is deafening and she’s choking in these sheets.  she tries to tug them loose, but his dead weight makes them stuck.  oh, she’s stuck, lying there trying to sleep.  and then she leans forward, puts her mouth to his ear and even though he’s asleep, she whispers ‘i love you.’

this is a mistake, but he doesn’t know how to get out of it.  he likes her, he really does, but she’s just not the one.  he can joke with  her, but not whole heartedly.  she has a great smile, but he can’t read it, and she’s beautiful but not quite as beautiful as she is plain.  and he just fucked her and felt nothing; he let her come and then he gave up, not really wanting more…so he turns around, staring at nothing and finally pretends to sleep, just to avoid talking.  he can feel her get more impatient as she tugs at the sheets and he can feel her move closer.  then in that moment, she whispers those words, searing hot breath on his ear, and he knows this is a mistake.

she’s listening to music, mostly songs that remind her of him.  hopefully tonight she can fall asleep sooner or she’s going to need drugs to knock her out.  she turns her head and looks out her window.  the moon is seeping through her curtains, glowing eerily on her walls, and she’s thinking about that night and what she did wrong, what’s been said: and she knows the truth.  she’s completely in love with him and her bed has never felt colder or emptier until now.