Story Of A Lonely Girl

(Nobody likes you when you're) Twenty Three

“Hey, I've been kind of wanting to tell you something for a while,” Tom said in a low voice, shifting closer to me. He paused for at least a minute and I mentally cursed at him because he was opening and closing his mouth as if to say something but it never came out, and that was really getting on my nerves.

He looked like a goldfish. He opened and closed his mouth so many times in a minute that I had lost count. You see, I was intrigued. Intrigued and eager to know what he was about to say. The expression on my face could be easily misunderstood by annoyance; but no, I liked him too much to grow tired of him, or feel like he's annoying me. It just got me nervous and I wanted him to spill out the words that were eating him inside and out. For a second I thought he was seriously imploding. The human mind can be disturbing and quite contradictory sometimes. And those times it can make a fool of you by making you rethink a gazillion times what you were about to say or do; exactly what Tom's doing right now.

I'm no doctor or psychiatrist, but I know these things because I’ve a pretty fucked up mind, you know?

After almost two minutes, Tom backed away from me and started a silent war in his own mind. I could tell he was. He just blankly stared at the gray carpet floor we were both sitting on, and absentmindedly played with his lip ring. It was cute though. I secretly wished I could read his mind right now and somehow get inside it and send it subliminal messages telling him to confess whatever he wanted to say. But of course I wasn't in a comic book- I had to stick to my own boring super power-less life and deduce what Tom was thinking, just to kill the time.

As I waited for the reply that never came, I thought of the possibility that he might've done something bad; very bad and maybe wanted to confess it to me? What if he had robbed a bank? Run over a dog? A new thought crossed my mind. What if Tom murdered someone? What if he was a serial killer? Oh my god I have to get out of this house. What if sleeping in his house was just a trick to kill me in my sleep? Oh my g- no wait that would be absurd.

Well it isn't an insane or impossible thought, is it? I mean, it made sense at first. I mean it would’ve made more sense if he had homicidal tendencies. I'm currently mentally crossing out the idea of Tom being a murderer; just forget I ever brought up the thought.

Oh, great. He just stood up from the floor and left me alone in his room again. I won't chase after him; maybe he needs more space and time to figure out how he's going to confess that he was a murderer. No. Stupid brain, we've already been through this. He's not a killer.

A light bulb seemed to light up in my head because I had just come up with good thoughts. My mind was finally cooperating.

What if he wants to confess something good, or something he's guilty about, like a guilty pleasure? OH MY GOD HE'S GAY. I grinned at the thought and shook my head. Nope. Too good to be true.

Actually that would be a very bad thing for me, since Tom's the guy who drives me crazy. But I wouldn't oppose to him being gay. Dad's gay, I could deal with another one in the family (yes, friends are practically family).

Well that thought was definitely unrealistic. Hmm.

Is there a chance that he's in love? Or maybe not in love, but in like? I mean there's this whole phase before falling in love with someone.