8/1/11

Reasons to Love
By Caty


You-

I love you.

Every last inch of you.

I don’t know why. You’re not at all my type. If I even have a type anymore…who’s to say? There I go, losing myself again on tangents you think are so cute. What’s so cute about them? Frankly, if I were you I would find them incredibly annoying. Maybe that’s why I love you. Your ability to put up with me like no one else can. It’s not like you can’t do any better. In fact, far from it. Before I came along with my ripped up soccer back pack and my bright-blue keds, you were content to chase the perfect ones, happy to conform. Something must have changed in you though. What was it? I’ll never understand. You had it all going for you. Girls wanted you, guys wanted to be you. You had charisma and charm, the looks of any teenage boy, but with a subtle suaveness that I couldn’t seem to escape. Yes, that’s why I love you. That inescapable smile. Those contemplative hazel eyes. They say so much about you, did you know? They whisper to me what your mouth doesn’t dare to utter. But there I am again, getting off track. Why DO I love you? God knows you do things that can make me angrier than a bear in my bee-hive or a nerdy girl at cheer tryouts. What, with that sarcastic whit that can cut me clean open. That jealousy. You know I love you, so why do you insist on sheltering me from the entire male population? And your conformity. For once, just once I want you to do something radical. I want you to really be you. But, I digress. Sure, you don’t look like much and maybe you aren’t. I suppose I’m just jaded. Is it lust or is it love? I ask too many questions whose answers simply do not exist. You think that’s cute too though. You think its cute that I snort when I laugh and that I’ve given up trying to tame my wild curly hair. You love when my eyes light up as I start relaying the French Revolution like its headliner news. You think its funny I hate your best friend and, and you just as soon kiss me as kill anyone else try and talk to me. Maybe that’s why I love you…No, I love that silly look you get on your face when you think real hard, and how you stick out your tongue at me in fake disgust. Oh but I hate how you’re like cotton candy. So sweet, but always dissolving in an instant and leaving me craving more. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re like that one sky-blue marble from Chinese checkers that rolled down the hall when I was five and got caught between the floorboards. The game just doesn’t work without it. I never found it, you know. Until that first time you came over. I still laugh when I think of that day. Did you know I spent three hours doing and redoing my hair and I changed my outfit at least five times, I was so nervous? I know what you’re thinking, you always see me this way, what’s the difference? Well, I don’t know I guess... I just wanted it to be special. Well, you came over (little klutz you are) and you tripped over those floorboards that had long-since had the new worn off of, and you accidentally ripped one up with the toe of your shoe. The look on your face…goodness. You would’ve thought you just accidentally gave the Leaning Tower of Pisa its last final shove. But there it was my marble. Waiting for me, as it always had. And that’s how I knew. That’s I knew I’d always, always

Love

You.


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I'm in the summer of my Junior year and I've been writing since age 9, hidden in the depths of my closet. I decided, the hell with it! time to let others enjoy. I don't think or create, i am no artist. it is simply my stream of consciousness, my soul, spelled out. I'd love feedback!