It was raining hard, and she was sharing the medium sized college umbrella with Ingrid. Their jeans were both soaking wet at the hems. She hadn’t bothered to roll them up like Ingrid, because she’d thought it looked cool, and besides, it’d get wet anyway. There was no point rolling it up and complaining afterwards, like what Ingrid was doing.
She’d taken a look at Ingrid’s jeans, and was laughing at her when she saw him. Just a fraction of the second. Like usual. It was always just a fraction of the second. They would catch each other’s eyes, and then look away and pretend they haven’t seen anything.
To her, it was heartbreaking.
And maybe to him, it was a look. Just a look.
“Hoping makes me feel stupid,” she said out loud, dumping her face into the pillow.
“Not desperate?” Ingrid added, looking up from her magazine.
“Not desperate, not pathetic, just stupid,” she replied. “Well maybe just a little bit pathetic, but just a little.”
“Yeah well, story of our lives, isn’t it, the guy that we have the hots for just don’t give a damn. It’s like I like you, okay, I know it’s stupid and I know you don’t care,” Ingrid said all but in one breath.
“You know, I had a little chat with Dominic this evening. I asked him a few things, and he told me a few things. It was pretty informative, in a way that induced me to say I feel so stupid for placing flaccid hope on a guy so broken,” she said, now reaching for a glass of fresh water.
“Yeah? What’d he say?”
“Well I asked him, how do you fix a guy who thinks he’s broken? And he went like, you don’t do anything. You let him be, and he’ll come around. So I was like, how was that possible, don’t you think, like he needs support, or something? And Dominic said, well, he’s got his mates for that. He said he knew what exactly I was on about, and—“
“Did he tell you to leave him alone?”
“Well, yeah. And I went a bit off after that. Dom said; he’s already under a lot of stress dealing with his own shit that he can’t deal, so he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need anymore stress having me trying to like, get in the way, etcetera. I guess I get what he’s trying to tell me, though, so I stopped asking,” Sophie finished, rubbing her eyes. “It’s sad.”
“Mm hmm.”
“But I kinda get it.”
“You shouldn’t have been putting up hopes for him in the first place, no?”
Coming from Ingrid, that was really concise.
“I guess.”
“Oh but honey, no worries,” Ingrid said. “People like us are only single because of bad timing, don’t you think so? Think about it. Isn’t it bad timing that you just happened to fall for him just when things were falling apart with his ex? There could have been many different paths that he could take, but seriously, it wasn’t your fault, right?”
“Or maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”
Sophie lowered her head and bit her lips. Those were probably the saddest thought she’d ever think of since the past ten months since she’d saw him. Gritting her teeth, she felt like she wanted to just cry and shout and let it go and screw everything off. Shit. How she could stand being like this, she didn’t know. How she could stand feeling like this for so long, she didn’t know.
But then again, maybe it was bad timing. She knew she had a chance. There were moments, moments when her hopes had really perked up, moments when she’d caught him looking at her and looking like he wanted to say something, moments when their eyes locked, moments when she caught him looking away. Little things. Little things that meant nothing to him. Little things that meant huge things to her.
“Or maybe you’re right.”
If one day, I actually start to matter; please let me know.
Because if I could wish for one thing, I would hear you say my name.
After crossing out the last two sentences, she folded the little square paper nicely and slowly inserted it to a secure spot in her wallet. One day she’d run into him, and on that fine day, maybe she can give it to him, and start hoping again.
Although she would most probably feel stupid about it. Very stupid.
She’d taken a look at Ingrid’s jeans, and was laughing at her when she saw him. Just a fraction of the second. Like usual. It was always just a fraction of the second. They would catch each other’s eyes, and then look away and pretend they haven’t seen anything.
To her, it was heartbreaking.
And maybe to him, it was a look. Just a look.
“Hoping makes me feel stupid,” she said out loud, dumping her face into the pillow.
“Not desperate?” Ingrid added, looking up from her magazine.
“Not desperate, not pathetic, just stupid,” she replied. “Well maybe just a little bit pathetic, but just a little.”
“Yeah well, story of our lives, isn’t it, the guy that we have the hots for just don’t give a damn. It’s like I like you, okay, I know it’s stupid and I know you don’t care,” Ingrid said all but in one breath.
“You know, I had a little chat with Dominic this evening. I asked him a few things, and he told me a few things. It was pretty informative, in a way that induced me to say I feel so stupid for placing flaccid hope on a guy so broken,” she said, now reaching for a glass of fresh water.
“Yeah? What’d he say?”
“Well I asked him, how do you fix a guy who thinks he’s broken? And he went like, you don’t do anything. You let him be, and he’ll come around. So I was like, how was that possible, don’t you think, like he needs support, or something? And Dominic said, well, he’s got his mates for that. He said he knew what exactly I was on about, and—“
“Did he tell you to leave him alone?”
“Well, yeah. And I went a bit off after that. Dom said; he’s already under a lot of stress dealing with his own shit that he can’t deal, so he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need anymore stress having me trying to like, get in the way, etcetera. I guess I get what he’s trying to tell me, though, so I stopped asking,” Sophie finished, rubbing her eyes. “It’s sad.”
“Mm hmm.”
“But I kinda get it.”
“You shouldn’t have been putting up hopes for him in the first place, no?”
Coming from Ingrid, that was really concise.
“I guess.”
“Oh but honey, no worries,” Ingrid said. “People like us are only single because of bad timing, don’t you think so? Think about it. Isn’t it bad timing that you just happened to fall for him just when things were falling apart with his ex? There could have been many different paths that he could take, but seriously, it wasn’t your fault, right?”
“Or maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”
Sophie lowered her head and bit her lips. Those were probably the saddest thought she’d ever think of since the past ten months since she’d saw him. Gritting her teeth, she felt like she wanted to just cry and shout and let it go and screw everything off. Shit. How she could stand being like this, she didn’t know. How she could stand feeling like this for so long, she didn’t know.
But then again, maybe it was bad timing. She knew she had a chance. There were moments, moments when her hopes had really perked up, moments when she’d caught him looking at her and looking like he wanted to say something, moments when their eyes locked, moments when she caught him looking away. Little things. Little things that meant nothing to him. Little things that meant huge things to her.
“Or maybe you’re right.”
If one day, I actually start to matter; please let me know.
Because if I could wish for one thing, I would hear you say my name.
After crossing out the last two sentences, she folded the little square paper nicely and slowly inserted it to a secure spot in her wallet. One day she’d run into him, and on that fine day, maybe she can give it to him, and start hoping again.
Although she would most probably feel stupid about it. Very stupid.
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