thursday night at Blenz |
Thursday night, nothing to do and I feel like a caged tiger. No one is picking up their cells and no one is replying to my texts. It was 8:30 and I just couldn't stay inside. I think to myself maybe I should have more friends, surely then one would have the time. Then, an unwelcome thought: If I had a boyfriend this wouldn't be a problem. I bite down hard on my tongue to prevent the flow of thought, memory and wishful thinking. I can't think like that ever again. Pain clears my mind. Finally I try someone who I expect to be busy - Kirsten. 9 dial tones later I hang up. And 5 seconds later she calls back. I ask if she'd like to go up to Blenz for a bit, and in 15 min I'm waiting for a regular mocha. We talk loudly, laughing and all the while I can't really say what's on my mind. On the corner of 6th and 6th, uptown New West and the sun is just setting behind the Royal City Mall. Everywhere I pick out couples and teen girls in short shorts and American Eagle shirts. Tame blonde hair, waving brunettes, laughing through the make up and lip gloss. Oh how I wish I could be so care free ( or careless?) as them. I want to seem unapproachable but the same time be drooled over. She tells me about her bf, how perfect everything is. What a gentleman, how considerate, how romantic. I just poke fun at myself and my misfortunes, exaggerate university, pretend it doesn't really all bother me. He calls her, the ring tone sounded like a song from Mario Kart. I didn't want to head home yet so I say I'll walk home with her because I want to see him anyways. Sure enough, he's a gentleman, considerate and romantic. He sweeps her into an embrace followed by a kiss. He speaks to her in a low secretive voice, close to her ear and she giggles. I die a little inside. I head home. Mindlessly walking down 6th, going past the endless coffee houses. Everyone is out tonight and everyone seems to be in love. I'm just a lonely shadow passing by. My thoughts are dark. Some car whizzes by me, honking and two people wave. I don't look up in time to see who it is. By the time I reach my home the street lamps are on. Dad is in bed, softly snoring. I grab Fanboys, watching past midnight. Go to bed with a bitter taste in my mouth. |