29 September 2009

The Party, Part XX (20)

“Things can’t possible get any worse, can they?”

She almost afraid to ask, scared to jinx herself and make everything so much worse. Scared that, yeah, she screwed everything up with anyone, and maybe, just maybe, he’s right. Maybe she never will be in love. Maybe she’s actually as stupid as she might think, and maybe she really doesn’t deserve it all. Maybe it really is her place in life to just write about love, step into her characters’ shoes and pretend her life’s a movie.

If her life’s a movie, though, then what is it? Some dark comedy, where she’s the butt of all the jokes? Some docudrama on high school life, showing one girl who just can’t get it right? Where’s the leading guy, and why can’t he be played by Taylor Lautner or something? Why can’t her life be interesting, not just depressing?

God…why is stuff so incredibly hard?

Why can’t it be like some cheesy teen novel: girl meets guy, they fall for each other, happily ever after? Close the book, the end, move on with your day. Wonder how perfect their lives were with each other after that last page. Why does it have to be girl falls for loser after loser, jerk after jerk, and every time swears it will be the last time it happens to her?

She’s wasted so much time, so much energy, so many tears…it’s like that quote. “The ones that make you cry aren’t worth your tears, and the one who is will never make you cry.”

Let’s face it: maybe he was right, much as she doesn’t want him to be.

Maybe he was right when he gave that weird little speech. “About love, the glass isn’t just half empty – it’s completely empty. And when you go to the store to buy more, you can’t. Because they don’t have any in stock. Because they don’t make it anymore. And you just have to suck it up and keep going.”

Yeah, great thing to say when she’s already hurting. But tact is dead, after all, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by him apparently. She called him to feel better, for him to whip out that best friend pick-me-up vibe. It kinda failed, obviously.

But, well, what’s a girl to do?

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