Pi_Pen

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>> Pi_Pen <<

// LGBTQ+ ally // Feminist // Gun control // Pro choice // Save the earth // Pi digit memorizer
// Debater // Agnostic //

Message to Readers

Ack, sorry for the wait! Part 1: https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/105389/version/200239 . Hope you like it! I'd love any feedback!

Cold. Too Cold. - Part 2

March 26, 2019

FREE WRITING

3
I listen carefully for a sound in the grass (he loved his fields), the crash of tools (he was always so clumsy), the madly tingly sound of his voice (hight pitched and soft)... I'm afraid of what I might here. I shiver in the cold air. I look around, strands of my hair whip my pale face. I look out towards the distance.

I remembered little things about him, insignificant, silly memories that invade my brain and poke at my ears.
He always brought me a bag of stale potato chips. I forget if it was an inside joke or not (most likely not).
He would rant about PopTart ads while casually tossing one into the microwave.
He enjoyed teasing me about my hair (I didn't mind).
He rarely complimented me, and, when he did so, it would sound incredibly cliché and exaggerated... never sincere.
He often disappeared for days, and I would worry sick to know where he was.
He would then return with a wide smirk on his face and an odd addition to his outfit: new laces, a signature on his baseball cap, an earring.
He dislikes tattoos and would cringe if he ever saw someone with them, but eventually got a lowercase "a" tattooed onto his left hand (I hated it and never knew why he had done so- he didn't have many friends to dare him to).
He stared at the moon longingly and would fall into a deep sleep on the wet grass, though I was informed that in his huge bed he turned around restlessly at night.
I had never been inside his house. He had never been in mine.
Ours was a peculiar love story: it were a secret kept from ourselves.

The cold grabs me by the shoulders once again, and I curl up in a ball on the cracked concrete.

"Hey," I hear behind me, whispered and dispersed into the howling wind. I raise my head. I turn.
"Hello," I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Stop flirting," he laughs absurdly.
I stare at him.
I form a word in my mouth and regrettingly allow it to escape, "Where?"
"What?" he replies indifferently, in his typical arrogant way.
"Where?" I repeat.
"Why?" he teases.
"Where?" I insist.
He laughs and turns away, walking towards the old barn.
I grab his arm, perhaps too violently, for I hear a sensible, "Ouch!" come from Tom. He was never one to show his pain. An "ouch" would never have escaped his lips. I had always known he was sensitive.
He wasn't someone who "hid his soft and vulnerable heart inside a hard turtle shell." He wasn't a cold young man who hid a sweet boy inside. No, he was different.
He showed his scars, his delusions and worries, but always in a way as if to mask them as unimportant. He did not depict his most profound vulnerabilities as weaknesses: he projected them as casual mistakes and errors. He was cold, yes, but not in a protective sort of way. Winter's ice had simply frozen him, too.

He looks at me with soft eyes, contradicting his ever-present, placid grin.
"Please tell me where you put it." I stare back.
"I don't know. How am I supposed to remember?"
"You know."
"No, I don't."
"You know."
"I do not."
"Yes. You do. Please."
He pauses, "I don't."

When we had, years ago, decided to stop staring at the maple tree together or running after a lady bug in the fields, we had done so separately but unanimously. We had our own reasons to stop doing so and we simply expressed our conclusion.
I had forgotten my reason.
The cause was frivolous compared to the effect.

"Very well. I won't ask you where it is anymore, but please at least tell me why you don't want me to know. I wouldn't even have asked for it."
"I told you: I don't know where it is."
"But I know that you do."
"What if I didn't? Do you want to stay here and freeze forever?" His body, in that moment, seemed to accentuate the fact that he was wearing short sleeves.

He had always teased me for being cold. I was always cold. I froze when I met him in the fields, inside the barn, near the lake. When we had kissed, I had felt his lips almost burning on mine, while he later laughingly stated that mine were freezing and blue. He didn't mind any low temperature and detested warm ones, one of the many reasons he refused to come visit me at my uncle's beachside home during the summer (which in turn was the reason I so often refused to head to the seashore, to instead remain in the freezing wind with him).

I wear a measly sweater. I hadn't brought my coat due to my hope of avoiding jokes of that kind, but I had been certain he wouldn't refrain from making them.
I look up at him. I am still sitting on the road, perhaps waiting for the bus to pass so that I can eagerly wave my arms at it to stop, hop back on and flee to the refuge of my home.
But of course I know I cannot simply leave. After years of separation from Tom, I can't just go.

And it's not that I am still in love with him and am denying that I do.
It's that I miss being in love with him and wish I were denying that I no longer do.


"Where?"

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  • March 26, 2019 - 1:30pm (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • paperbird

    this is freaking amazing
    i have too many favorite lines but here are few:
    "He would then return with a wide smirk on his face and an odd addition to his outfit: new laces, a signature on his baseball cap, an earring."
    "I was always cold. I froze when I met him in the fields, inside the barn, near the lake. When we had kissed, I had felt his lips almost burning on mine, while he later laughingly stated that mine were freezing and blue."
    "I had forgotten my reason.
    The cause was frivolous compared to the effect. "
    i love this interesting character dynamic. and your dialogue feels so real––love the "where?" "why?" and everything about your characters. they kind of balance each other and it's fantastic. this is an improvement on the first part and i can't wait for the next installment!
    the only piece of feedback i have is to clear up the second to last paragraph about the still being in love with him. the way you phrased it is lengthy and unclear.
    love this!!


    9 months ago