Broken Social Scene blasting out of your tinny sounding car stereo, me singing along in my head. You were driving me home and kept asking me so many questions. It felt like interrogation. I kept imagining it was someone else doing the questioning. We stopped at the servo because you had to buy petrol. You cursed at how expensive it was to run your car. I stupidly suggested that you should buy a motorbike. You smiled at me and my belly did somersaults.
We got back in the car and you let me put on my CD. You thought that my music sounded “emo”. I told you off for dissing Minus The Bear. You smiled at me again and then I went all quiet. The journey back to mine felt like it was taking forever but then again, you live all the way out in Forever.
I couldn’t tell you how I was really feeling because guys like you have a habit of calling me names. Even when you’re in your mid thirties, you would probably take one look at me and then proceed to laugh your head off.
We reached my place after a lengthy period of me being silent and hating myself for always being quiet. You asked me if anything was wrong. I half smiled and was dying to get out of the car before I blurted out anything that I would’ve regretted.
You asked me if I was doing anything on Friday night. My heart hit the floor with a LOUD thud. I told you that I was busy. You said goodbye to me and kissed me on the cheek.
I’m kicking myself for missing another opportunity.
Back to the drawing board I go…