19 June 2009

The Party, Part XI (11)

The talking continues.

Conversation flows easily, and when she thinks about it later she realizes how crazy the topics are. It can go from The Great Zombie Debate to his past to the bakery she wishes to open to the plans his family has laid down for him, as easily as breathing. She doesn’t even care that he’s so busy – he still takes time out to talk to her. It’s (almost) enough to keep her satisfied.

Of course, she likes it better when she’s with him instead of just talking over the phone. Things are more intimate, and it’s easier to figure out what he means when he doesn’t say anything. And you can’t read palms over the phone. Or accidentally end up holding hands. Or wander through a cemetery until your parents worry. You can strengthen the connection, sure, but…well, she likes being around him.

He’s just amazing.

To and for her. Jokes around and is just the right balance of funny, teasing and serious. He knows when she needs him to listen and give honest advice and when he needs to make her laugh before she cries. They have their mock fights – especially because she knows he’s adorable and he refuses to believe it.

She cherishes the moments they spend together. They might be the best thing she has, and she’s terribly protective of them. It might sound terribly pathetic and odd, but she rests easier after talking to him. His voice is soothing; like a drug. It calms her, makes her laugh, makes her worry, makes her care.

But he doesn’t seem to know.

Though she sends out every signal and subtle hint she can, even flat out telling him, this guy just doesn’t seem to get what she means. Sure, he thinks he does, but there’s a difference between assumed meaning and true meaning. A huge difference. Monumental.

It’s okay, though. She’s okay, although it’s painfully obvious that she wants more. They talk about it a lot, but…our girl never really learned to be patient. Sure, she knows good things come to those who wait, but…whatever. She isn’t like that. She wants concrete evidence that this will last, will actually happen, and she’s terribly impatient.

If only you could fast-forward, just to see what happens, then return to the moment.

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