It's very tempting sometimes to throw my hands in the air and walk away.
It is true you know,what they say about birth order and middle-children. That whole"go along to get along"thing is the usual definition for this middle-child.
But not always.
I ha(more)ve a temper. And I'm talking *temper*.
As in hulk-growing,red-haze-seeing,holes-in-walls-making temper.
With a capital Temper.
Not many people are aware of just how temper-y I can be and the truth is that's a good thing.
Not Martha Stewart good thing, not it's-real-good-you-wished-him-into-the-cornfield-Anthony good thing either.
More like you'll-think-you-just-has-a-run-in-with-satan good thing.
I'm not sure if that good-thing stuff made sense so let me sum it up, I scare even the animals when I explode.
And I haven't exploded in a long time.
Like I'm way overdue.
I warn them all, family, friends, wrong numbers on the telephone. Anyone and everyone.
I tell them I haven't stopped running since August 27th 2011 when Hurricane Irene changed my entire life and I remind them that just because I don't complain about fibromyalgia everyday doesn't mean it cured itself.
But they still keep piling everything on me.
The middle-child who doesn't have a paying "job" and never says no.
Who,as word on the family grape-vine goes,wastes her life and does nothing, which is first-born-code for "how dare she not have children and then give up her job to be a caretaker for family members!"
Followed by "she's a loser, wasting her time writing and singing in a band,and,she's no sister of mine!"
Or something like that.
I wish I had it in me to just give it up and walk/run/fly away as far as I can and never look back.
But I'm a middle-child.
I'm stuck in the middle,alone and not giving up.
Stupid birth order.(less)
He jolted awake as the pebble struck his window with a loud bang. Dismissing it as his imagination, he turned to gather the blankets over him, and nestle down into the pillow for a try at a hopefully more dreamless sleep, but an even louder bang from the window(more) startled him bolt upright and blinking.
"Open the window or I'll throw another one!"
He froze halfway down to pick up his alarm clock. That voice has driven all thoughts of sleep from his head and replaced them with an electrifying tension.
She was here. Throwing rocks at his window.
His eyes flicked down to the clock and back up again.
A minute ticked by. Another bang on the window.
With a groan, he flicked the latch and raised the window, shoving his face out into the cold night air and blinking owlishly down at the streetlights and the cars and...
God, she was beautiful.
It broke his heart seeing her cold and shivering out on the sidewalk, looking up at him. As she saw him looking down at her she shivered, even though she was trying so hard not to, and gave a feeble little attempt at a smile that made his heart ache even more. He wanted so badly to rush downstairs and let her in, but he knew what she wanted. And he also knew that he couldn't give her what she wanted.
She yelled up at him: "Why don't you love me?"
When he found his voice, he shouted down to her: "Give it up."
He shut his window and stared at the wall. When he looked out through the blinds, he saw her, crushed, not even bothering to stifle her tears as she slowly turned and retraced her steps in the dark and the rain.(less)
Give it up. He wouldn't ever say it to her like that--at least partly because that would totally ruin his chances--but also that would be so crude, so rude, and it wouldn't represent how he feels about her, really.
Yeah, he does. He wants her to give it(more) up. He wants to give it up to her, too--though he probably wouldn't admit that to his boys. They know he's a virgin, but the guy isn't supposed to care so much about who, like, gets his virginity, right? He's just supposed to get it over with.
But he did save it for her. For when she was ready. He probably could've used some practice first or whatever, but he knows her, he knows she'll be happy to fumble around with him and they'll figure this out together. He knows how to get her off, anyway, so that's not really his concern. Eventually, yeah, he'll make her come through intercourse, that's definitely the goal--a goal?--but if it doesn't happen at first, doesn't mean he won't be getting her off at all. They're pretty creative. He's excited to get off in her, though. Boy, is he ever.
Not that sex won't be more than that. Duh. It will. But yeah, it will also be sex, and he's excited about that part too, okay?(less)