"You in?" asked Olivia daringly.
[Ahem. Olivia is my "pen name" almost. No, that's not true. But it's the closest I can get to what it's actually called. I use the name Olivia to replace my own in real life situations that I like to document. That might not make sense to non-writers, or even to writer-writers, but it's what I do.]
Daniel gulped. "If you're in," he said and looked up into my eyes--blue, blue, blue eyes. So much of it, I could feel myself drowning. Being enveloped into the soothing pools of blue. "I'm in."
[Daniel is mah "bffl" as my friend Alanah would say. "Boyfriend for life." This makes no sense for several reasons that I'm not going into. It's just another illustration of the oddities that are my friends. Daniel isn't his real name and...I don't know if I feel like saying his real name yet or even if any of this really happened. I may have actually already said his real name, but I'm sure as hell not doing it now.]
These words did not come easily, but truthfully. It wasn't like he was convincing himself of anything, but more that he was having trouble admitting that they were, indeed, true. Because they were. And some things just were. However, accepting that. Accepting the fact that some things in life just "were" without logical explanation as to why was a very complex idea for Daniel to understand.
It just was. We just were. Together. Why? Your guess is as good as mine, but I'm not sure there even was a reason. "Some thing's just are," I had said this during a particularly heated argument earlier that month. (And by argument I mean, me trying to stir up some sort of inner controversy within Daniel, but failing miserably.)
"What does that have to do with anything?" Daniel blustered. His poor mind could not grasp the fact that I was just mad at him. I can't really remember if he'd done anything or if I was just in a rotten mood, but either way--we were fighting. "Some things? What do you mean by some things?"
"Not everything can be rationalized!" I shouted and walked into the kitchen. Daniel followed me from the living room still wearing a confused expression upon his sweet, sweet face. "Some things in life just are the way they are because that's the way things are and you can't just label everything in your bizarre little scientific mathematical book of why everything in the world is the way it is!"
Daniel took a deep breath. "Go again."
I shook my head. I was angry, so very angry. I just wanted him to love me. To really, really love me. The way I did him. And I was frustrated that at the moment it didn't appear he did or that he ever would and I wanted him to so, so badly. I wanted him and his entire being and I wanted him to want me in that same way, but I wouldn't voice this.
"Sometimes," I began again, "things just are. Like us. We just ARE."
"What do you mean 'we just are'? We just are what?"
"WE JUST ARE!" I yelled again. "We're together. We're people. You're a boy. I'm a girl. My name is Olivia. Yours is Daniel. We just ARE as we ARE. And no, I'm not saying that there isn't a grander plan for everything, but you can't just know it."
"I know that," he said calmly. He never got angry, never ever. He got upset, but never angry. Fighting was always me yelling at him because he never yelled back, which only made me angrier, which made him sadder. It was a vicious circle. "Do you think I don't know that?"
"No," I said. "I don't think you do."
He gulped. Why was he always gulping? Why did I make him so nervous? Why didn't he care? Why wouldn't he fight with me? Why did I want to be with him?
"I'm sorry," he apologized. A completely unnecessary apology I'll tell you. "It's just difficult for me to let go."
And like that my heart fell back into place and I felt terrible. I didn't mean to yell at him. So we'd start over and I'd remind myself again and again. This is just him, he DOES care. I swear to you, he DOES.
So here we were. So close to breaking up. "I'm in," he said. The boy who always wanted things to be simple, clean-cut, right there decided, after second-thinking himself, that he still wanted to be with me. He wanted me and that's all I could ever ask for, right?
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