pastelity

while we made lunch one day, i asked why he liked me. i do not know what i had been expecting. perhaps 'because you're pretty' or 'because you're sweet'. instead he tells me 'i like you because you listen. when i ask you to do something you do it. if i want you to take care of yourself you do it. you're not stupid like some girls. some girls don't listen.' as i opened the refrigerator i smiled but i don't know why. 'you like me because i'm obedient.' he was frustrated now because no, that isn't what he meant but at this point i don't much care. i don't care much at all. because i cannot disagree. he has a hold on me. a hold that makes me wa

he holds me, now. he lays his head on my chest and exhales quietly, thoughtfully. i absentmindedly stroke his hair and count my breaths. we do not move for quite some time. as i begin to close my eyes, he speaks. "i'm sorry," he whispers. i do not know why he is sorry, but i have come to simply answer these irregularly occuring apologies with "it's all right"s. he shakes his head lazily. "no, it's not..." my eyes are open now and i'm racking my brain with possible reasons as to why he should be sorry, now. is he sorry for cheating on me? for lying to me? for all the name-calling and all the teasing? ignorant to his true reasons, i decide to

when you weren't home, i sat in your room by myself. i thought about straightening it up for you, but i would probably put everything in the wrong place and you'd call me later that night asking where something was. i imagine the phone calls would occur regularly. i also imagine you'd think me sweet to have straightened it for you in the first place. i thought about listening to music. it wouldn't be the same without you, but i couldn't figure out how to work the television. i flipped through the discs in your scooby-doo CD case. i remembered how we don't like the same kind of music. i ended up sleeping all by myself. i snuggled under your