Boys are strange.
I liked one recently. We went out twice, talked about all the stuff we had in common, hugged at the end and sms’d. He went away. Got back. E-mailed me. There was a smiley face and a question. A good sign, right? I replied and asked him what he’d been up to. Its been over a week. I was sad for a day, on my birthday, but I’m over it now. Although I still think about him sometimes, its ok.
There was one boy who told me “there’s just something special about you”. A one night stand. I was ok with that, it was all I wanted. I felt shit the next day.
There was one boy who liked me so much he gave me the creeps. But I went on a date with him, kissed him, hated it and then said bye. For the last time.
There was one boy who was so sexy I got the giggles when he got out the shower, all wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist and long, dripping hair. We used to drink and kiss and dance and laugh. But he wanted a mother not a girlfriend.
There was one boy who who wanted to kiss me and I didn’t know it. He told me years later and I wished he’d just kissed me cos I wanted to kiss him, then.
There was one boy who turned me into jelly every time I saw him. We were worlds apart but his thin, squiggly lips made my heart skip numerous beats.
There were boys in junior school who my friend and I used to dream and talk and write about. I’m guessing now they were doing the same (except maybe the writing) only none of us were brave enough to tell each other, except in home-made anonymous valentines cards. I don’t get those anymore, or send them.
There was a boy I met while travelling who made me feel beautiful and delicious, like a bar of swiss chocolate that you buy at the duty-free shop and eat one piece at a time. We stayed up all night and I flew home the next day.
I cheated on my first serious boyfriend. Twice. Once with a policeman who told me about how flat people’s heads are when they are run over by trucks. Once with a boy I don’t remember at a party where we got stoned.
My next serious boyfriend cheated on me. Twice. Retribution baby. Both girls were in our circle of friends. I found out years later he slept with one of them. We’re still friends (the boy and I, not the girls, they’re trashy… of course).
I went to an all girls school, maybe that’s why I think boys are strange. Or maybe I’m just saying that because I’m waiting for a special one to kiss me while holding my face in his hands.
© simone and all the world