Inability

Reason 2

We wanted different things.

The best relationships start with the people having at least some similarities. They can have far more disagreements than agreements and still get along well because of those few similarities. They're... real with each other. That's something that you should have, that has a higher chance of being received. It's a reality instead of a fantasy that you daydream about. You don't need to understand what love is to know that type of relationship, even though not perfect, can be such a beautiful thing. Besides, love is love, you get what you get, accept it.

Minutes before Allen's arrival, I was deciding, debating, with myself. After I announced to my family that someone had asked me to the dance, they hurried to the closest shopping center, looking for a dress for me. My parents were just so proud that their daughter found a good guy to take her to the dance. With beaming smiles on their faces, they handed me a black bag, the iron hook jutting out as it curved. Guilt seeped into me because they barely knew half of the story. They didn't even know how I was pressured into saying yes.

All I wanted was for them to know and to talk me out of going to the dance. I didn't want them to see Allen as a good boy that was too kind and sweet. I wanted them to see his bad side, the side that showed how unhealthy his obsession was. To me, they should've — correction, needed — to see him through my eyes. Though his golden eyes were filled with complete bliss and adoration, his soft eyes couldn't change my mind about this creeping black hole inside of me. Swallowing me whole as I think over the past week.

 Carrying the plastic bag in my arms, I walk with heavy steps towards my room. Under my scrutinizing emerald gaze, my reflection seemed unappealing at the moment. I didn't understand what Allen could've seen in me. My hair was darker than a black hole itself, engulfing me with wisps of straight hair tickling exposed skin. Freckles dotted my fairly pale complexion, a yellow undertone not being of the most help. No matter what I did, I was never the most comfortable in my own skin. I wanted to love every crook and cranny etched into my skin, but I couldn't.

I went on to open the bag made of thin-material, gliding the zipper down carefully. The dress inside was something I did not deserve, at all. With an empire waist and layered, silky smooth fabrics flowing to the ground, it would make me feel like an angel. The top had golden designs stringed neatly onto it, grace and beauty radiating off it. A sweetheart neckline with simple off-the-shoulder straps that gracefully hung low. It had a slim body, a barely-reflective golden belt wrapped around the high waistline. I felt pretty by just looking at the dress.

As I slipped into this obvious work of art, all I could think about was Allen. I tried to find something that would make me fall, and hard. Yet, nothing came to me. While he loved playing the guitar, I was devoted to my precious violin. His favorite color was blue, a loud shade that contrasted with his personality yet clashed with it at the same time. My favorite color was grey, like fog and thunderclouds, a gloomy color that made me smile brightly. I couldn't seem to find a single thing that we had in common, not now.

Why are we so different, I thought to myself as I forced a smile on my face. I mustn't let my parents see the regret and the overwhelming feeling bubbling inside of me.

Strap-on heels clicked against the smooth pavement of the walkway leading to my front door. The one-and-a-half-inch heels had golden circles running down the middle strap, the thin lines making me feel a little more insecure about how much skin showed. Sure, only my arms and shoulders had the most exposure, but that didn't mean the waves of fear wouldn't splash me.

Find some common ground, that's all you need to do to trip. That's all you need to fall and hopefully fall hard. Find something about him that you like as well, something special about him that makes you smile. Our differences don't have to define us. I can't just let this be my weakness, I can't let this push me past my breaking point. Please, please, please. I need to find something about him that will allow me to reciprocate his feelings for me. There has got to be something — anything — that will make Cupid shoot me in the chest.

I allow myself a small moment of insecurity as I walk up to the gymnasium. The words find something constantly repeated itself in my head, a never-ending cycle haunting me. The silver lights of the disco ball that hang on the high ceiling of the gymnasium were luminous, bouncing off the walls repetitively. Allen stands in the corner by the green bleachers, tugging at his black tie nervously. With golden brown eyes, he roams around looking for me. Staying near his corner, that is. His dark curls were tossed and turned messily, long fingers continuing to run through.

When he finally turns in my direction, his whole entire body lightens up. I made him happy just at the sight of me, I think as I hesitantly walk over to him. It seems that I was taking too long for he hastens in my direction, his hands fumbling. A look of awe graced his eyes, a wide smile plastered his rosy lips. Find something. A feeling, so foreign that it makes me almost jump, rumbles in my chest and stomach. My heart clenches then unclenches, beating at a rapid pace.
Well, it's not fear, but... what is it?