I stood there allowing the harsh wind sweep my black unruly hair, making my waves tangle even further. I stared down at my scuffed black slouch boots with my sharp, nearly black eyes and pulled my pink plaid coat tighter against my shivering body with one hand. My other hand was (unsuccessfully) attempting to light a cigarette with my trusty purple lighter. I chuckled to myself thinking he said smoking was unattractive. Not that it really mattered what he thought anyway, right?
You keep telling yourself that.
I took a ragged deep breath. I looked down at my shirt and noticed the Greek letters emblazoned in bright blue. I know, me, sorority girl? Well, some things surprise you. He's in Greek life too, that's no surprise there though. He once told me how he wasn't happy that everyone assumed he would join a fraternity, and he did inevitably succumb to it. He's a perfect match for it, his just out of bed messy tousled blonde hair and piercing green-blue eyes. Or were they just blue? Or just green? I wasn't honestly sure, I had always been too afraid to look directly at him in the eyes. He was the only person who could ever make me shrink under his gaze, even though I could never determine what was inside his head through those eyes. He had a well-defined jaw and owned abundance of multicolored Ralph Lauren and Lacoste polo's littering his drawers. His only physical flaw, well at least to others, was his small frame. He was, for lack of a better word, petite, slender, not your usual muscular college sophomore in Greek life.
I don't understand why I'm using the past tense. It's not like he died, we just did.
I suppose I made things sour first.
I mean, he is crazy. Make no mistake about that.
I didn't cheat on him. We were never together. He made sure of that.
But, apparently I did cheat on him.
He used me for sex though.
He lied twice and never explained himself.
But it was ok, because I messed up first.
We're both bad people.
Especially to each other.
I never disliked alcohol as much as I did that night.
He never trusted me though. He never even wanted to.
I thought I had all of these walls built up, until I met him.
I still don't know him, and I probably never will.
We're over, and I need to think of things in black and white, to get over him.
Yet, I know there's some grey somewhere.
He even questioned why I liked him so much, even though we've never even had a meaningful conversation.
I laughed and said, it was funny, because I didn't know. I just put too much faith in things.
Or maybe his beauty blinded me. Because, that's what he was. He was not handsome, he was just beautiful.
We were unhealthy it was true.
It's certainly better off this way.
Too bad, I can't escape him.
He lives with my best friend.
I'm in the same sorority with his best friend.
He's good at internalizing his issues.
He's over it.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
I'm not over it.
I got rejected.
He wants us to be normal and become friends.
Sure, no problem, because friends sleep with each other.
I scowled bitterly.
I keep telling myself I need the month off to regroup.
I'll come back in January a stronger, wiser, thinner, prettier, unattached girl.
He won't mean a thing to me in one month.
I took a deep drag of my cigarette and sighed.
AN: This is a new story, that I am really excited about, it's very short, but I like starting things out short, and seeing how it'll take off from there. I hope you enjoyed, and I promise it won't always be so dramatic/serious!