I want to. I really want to. Have you ever experienced that feeling when you feel like doing something you always wanted to do? I want to. Right now.
I am not being patient right now. Actually l want to say something. Something l should have said a long time ago.
But l didn't. Because? I don't know why.
I was that blinded.
No. No l haven't forgotten about Alex. Who would want to forget such a beautiful human being with amazing features? I want to. I try, give me some credit here. A beautiful human being but acts on hurtful actions. Towards who? Me. And you know what?
I don't give a flying fuck whatsoever.
That wasn't me. Rage. That's what.
I can't find myself to care anymore. I don't have a reason to anymore. There's no point in this never ending circle of me just begging. Do you know what l find funny?
He never begs. She never begs. It's always me begging. Why? I couldn't care less. I just don't care anymore. It's time they start begging. No. It's time for him to start begging.
Alexander.
Rebecca? I don't give a fuck. Not anymore. Try and see if l care. I just simply don't anymore.
Would you? No. Yes. Maybe.
I don't care.
Too reckless? Maybe. I just snapped like a piece of wood being cut into two pieces. I snapped into a million pieces like those million yes's l had once said to Alex. Remember? When he once asked me to be his? Remember now?
I am not a patient girl. I am a ticking bomb on the verge of bursting like the black balloon that hung on the ceiling on Alex's seventeen birthday. The day l bought him a cologne that Rebecca is probably sniffing right now and cuddly comfortably into his chest.
Daughter of a bitch.
That wasn't me. That was Rebecca. She said that. To whom you may ask? Jessica. Me, or should I say Jaime since her brain is too small to process anything to hard to pronounce.
Jessica. I love that.
Primrose. Are you a Primrose? I had a Primrose once. My friend. My invisible friend. I named her that. Primrose. A rose in disguise. A disguise that can't be seen. She's gone now. I don't have her anymore. She left me like my Alexander but in a reasoning way. Do l ever understand anything? No. I don't. I tried l can't.
"I want you, Alexander." I had whispered in a faint whisper as l locked my arms around his neck.
He groaned. I remember. "Fucking hell Jes. Not now sweet cake." He'd plead as if he was in pain. He was. Hopefully.
Sweet cake? That's just what he used to call me. Sweet cake. Do l look like a cake with frosting and little colourful designs on the sides? Nope.
I am an eighteen year old teenage girl. Blue eyes, dimly brown hair and a face almost the shape of a muffin. I am real.
"I want you so much Alexander." I had begged. He didn't give.
"Wait." He said.
I am not a patient girl. I don't wait. Not anymore. I am not going to beg. It's your turn. I don't beg anymore Alex, not anymore.
"Don't stop loving me Jes. Not yet." He had begged.
I wanted to laugh. I did.
"Don't stop? Don't stop you ask?"
Do l look like a have time for this sickening game.
I was begging.
You weren't giving.
I stopped.
You started begging.
What do you take me for? A shopping plastic bag that you can recycle?
Look again darling.
I am not a patient girl. I am not begging. Not anymore.
I am tired. Aren't you? Let's stop,l demand. Stop this Alexander. I want it to stop.
I don't beg anymore. You are.
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