my whole life became, like, divided
by jenibo
When I can run a mile without dying, I will blog about it. Until then, I will continue to write about the important stuff. Like spending hours in a car, making out with Just A Friend. If that happened at any time in 2006, it would be like, super interesting, right? I mean, that’s the kind of stuff we like to read about, RIGHT?! Or, maybe that’s just me.
I would like to have been sitting in my grandparents’ driveway in 2006 chatting with a Just A Friend, and trying not to think too much about the way he poked my sides or seemed to scoot closer with every other minute. It would be interesting for boring old me to look back to a time when I was someone different. Someone who agreed to let a friend, Just A Friend, kiss me on the lips in the dark after a long conversation about other girls and his romantic feelings toward them. I would like to have been called at two a.m. by a Friend who might have said he wanted to talk, but actually wanted me. In his car. To kiss and to hold as if we hadn’t decided not to like each other. And when I’m stranded in town with bad feelings toward the people I’m with, I would like to have a Friend to call. To pick me up in his familiar car, and let me leave my bad feelings in a dramatic, mysterious fashion. Because we’d be a secret. A big, indecent, entirely exhilarating secret.
But if that were to happen, I’m sure Boring Old Me will have found a way to end it, even six years ago. But I’d have a story. And it would be sensational.
