Have you ever done anything that made some people come up to you subsequently and say “hey, you should totally do that again! People should pay you to do that!”? Well, this week, I’ve been experiencing that. “hey, that’s a great idea! You should write that! You should become a writer!” . A statement that usually makes me back away slowly with a nervous smile on my face. “hehehe, thank you!” Of course, I’m speaking metaphorically. I don’t back away. I just smile nervously and say ‘thank you’.
Sometimes, I get creative. Some people play with paint or sounds. I play with words. Sometimes, stuff comes out that makes me say after re-reading a while later, “Wow!! I wrote that?”. Other times, stuff comes out that makes me say “Wow!!! I wrote that? What was I thinking? What was I on?” Either way, words come out that mean something to me, and mean something else to other people.
I mean in the sharing mood tonight, so I though, “why not?” It’s my first time sharing something I’ve wrote like this, so I’m a little nervous. This piece said something to me. Hope it says something to you too.
—PLAYING FOOTSIE UNDER THE TABLE—
She will not flirt with you
No, she will not answer your texts with winking emoticons
She will not play footsie under the table
nor will she laugh at your jokes as she flips her hair.
She will slide her hand into yours
and confess her undying love to you
resting her head against your chest
as if seeking solace from her own turmoil.
Her eyes will smile at you shyly
as she asks “Do you like me too ?”
And they’ll beg for the right answer
but you’ll be too shocked, too unprepared to say a word.
As she walks her fingers across your chest and
lays her head next to your beating heart
She’ll say “I feel so close to you right now”
and she’ll feel your heartbeat quicken
to the pace of a talking drum.
What was it that attracted you to her?
Was it her calming presence? Was it her laid-back demeanor
or the sweet smile that never seems to leave her lips?
Right now, it doesn’t matter because all you can think about
is your exit strategy.
How could someone seem so pure yet be so deviant?,
you think as she slides her hand under your shirt
To stop her. To stop her now. To stop her, you think,
She seems satisfied with just you. with just your heartbeat and your pulse.
She must be a virgin, you think
This must be her first time
You’re her first pair of shoes she’s trying to break in.
Her life stories, laced with deep secrets, start to fall from her lips like a waterfall
and you’re drenched, soaked to the bone
as she starts to reveal her soul to you.
Too soon!, you want to yell. Too soon!
She skipped all the pleasantries
preferring to jump in with both feet sliding down the mountain of your ego
The Conquest has become the Conqueror
The Prey has become the Predator and in your head,
you start to think about the top 10 reasons why this was a bad idea.
Her face is starting to get close to you
and as she closes her eyes
the panic bell goes off in your head.
Too close! Too close! her eyes are too close together!
She smells like French fries! Her mouth is open too wide!
The words start to tumble out of your mouth
“It’s not you, it’s me” “I’m just not ready for anything serious”
“Let’s just be friends”, anything to get out of there.
Her tears and feelings had become like a smear of mashed potato
on your Sunday best on Thanksgiving afternoon.
As the pool of tears gather around her eyelids
You know that you’ve become the Asshole that broke her heart.
You don’t like the label but you’re glad to escape
leaving the fragile, the delicate, the seemingly…weak
Alone to mend herself.
She’s crying. She’s yelling. She’s screaming. She’s running. Running after you
Quick! Think Quick! To get away from whom you now call Crazy
it all seems like a distant memory the next day as you sit
at your favorite table in the dining hall for brunch
You see her walk by, flanked by her General and Lieutenant
whose eyes tell the story of how she feels.
Death to the Asshole!, Their piercing stares seem to tell
You try to protest. You try to defend yourself
“Wait. It’s not like that. She’s crazy! She’s not who you think she is”
But it’s a lost cause. They have long since signed the contract of Female Loyalty
So, you sink back into your chair
vowing never to drink again,
to only flirt with sorority girls who never seem to expect much
and to never approach the girls with the glasses
Because behind those lenses, behind those deep eyes
Behind those sweet smiles
Lies the heart that has been more than twice scorned.