There's something you should know about aries', the worst possible thing you can do to them is ignore them. So that particular day was relatively infuriating. Take note, if I ever tell you to leave me alone, that directly translates to, "follow me and tell me how much I mean to you".
Cool, well on with the story; Matthew was the stupidest person anyone can be fortunate enough to encounter. It was the night of an art gallery at Iowa State University. I was a sophomore, and professor Scott had just started teaching an art workshop during second semester. Everyone had gone home and we were talking about something unimportant, human nature, some crazy story, made up or not. God I could listen to him for hours! we connected when we talked, I felt comfort, and safety. I could be myself with him and he would always cheer me on.
The beautiful way the corners of his mouth would point up as he began each new word seemed like a ray of faith, pointing to the sky, telling me to keep hope; telling me that no matter what, things would end exactly the way they should; no matter how long the road, his mouth always found a way to tell me that the end would be me, and him, together the way the fates had planned for centuries. The stars had always been aligning, the winds had been shifting in just a way, to bring Ary Evans (pronounced aah-ree, NOT airy) and Matthew Scott together. Together to live, and love, and make not only each others lives better, but the future of the whole world.
Long story short, I could never pay attention to what he said when I saw those small gestures of hope shining from his face, so I replied as well as possible just to keep him talking. There were always four things running through my mind when I spoke to him, his face, my secret, my problem, and my eternal answer. But this time there were five things, the letter was the most prominent thought in my mind. And just when I had thought he made the right choice, to not give me one, He did it. He handed me the much dreaded envelope. I didn't need to open it, I hardly needed to look at it. It was covered with what I called, "essence of Carla", which was generally anything to do with Carla Scorpio. I palmed the envelope and held it too tight. But what was I supposed to do? I was overcome with fury. This was no ordinary lustful jealousy. It was actually more than I had ever felt before. I hated this woman. I wanted this woman dead. Naturally, professor Scott was confused and ignorant. I asked,
"What's this?" To which he responded literally. I rephrased,
"Why do you want me there?"
"Because you're important to me, and it's an important day for me" He knew I HATED his devil-to-be but he apparently never cared to know why.
"NOT to me." This phrase seemed like a ball of fire yearning to escaping my body. It came out much more harsh than intended, but I chose to run with the attitude (almost literally) and i made the impulsive decision to storm way. I regretted it the second I turned around but naturally I was way too stubborn to go back. I pushed both double doors open in the back of the theatre lobby where the gallery was being held. The gust of wind that hit the front of my chest seemed like a push, to turn around and talk to him. But I used the wind as motivation to keep walking, hoping he would follow me.
If he did he would shout my name, he would grab my shoulder when I didn't respond. He would turn me around and hold on to my arm with one hand and grab my face with the other. He would kiss me like nobody had ever been kissed before and both of our lives would fade away because we were so in love that we wouldn't care about anything anymore.
But.
He didn't, but I kept walking. I got into my 2001 mustang, and sat there for a two and a half minutes just in case he was working up the courage to do the right thing. But naturally, I was there alone, so I left. We liked to text each other sometimes, at least I thought he liked it. But that night, I didn't even receive the obligatory 'Goodnight' so I hoped he knew I was pretty upset. I called my best friend in tho whole world (to be honest the only friend I actually had at all) figuring she must know how to make me feel better. "Hello?" She asked,
I told her everything I have just told you, but with less adjectives.
