What I think is that I really didn't love James at all. I wanted to so badly that I convinced myself I did.
[She looks straight ahead, out into space, and takes another drag.]
When I was thirteen, I went to a little coffee place with Donna. The Bookhouse--that's what it was called--had all kinds of stuff hanging on the walls. A lot of photographs. I remember, very clearly, seeing one photo of a guy in jeans and a leather jacket, sitting on a motorcycle and reading a book. A guy who was obviously rough and tough, but with a sensitive side--he was a reader, and he had smooth skin and the most beautiful puppy-dog eyes.
That description is James, down to the smallest detail. I decided, that day, that the person in the photo would be the perfect man for me. I even wrote in my diary that I was in love. Now, I think...I realize I wasn't in love with James. I was in love with what he was, and even more than that, what I wanted him to be. He wasn't what I wanted, though. He was just a little boy who was in love with the feeling of being in love more than he was with me. I guess we were equally guilty of that.
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sarken
Re: SPAM
Date: 2011-01-26 05:37 pm (UTC)[She looks straight ahead, out into space, and takes another drag.]
When I was thirteen, I went to a little coffee place with Donna. The Bookhouse--that's what it was called--had all kinds of stuff hanging on the walls. A lot of photographs. I remember, very clearly, seeing one photo of a guy in jeans and a leather jacket, sitting on a motorcycle and reading a book. A guy who was obviously rough and tough, but with a sensitive side--he was a reader, and he had smooth skin and the most beautiful puppy-dog eyes.
That description is James, down to the smallest detail. I decided, that day, that the person in the photo would be the perfect man for me. I even wrote in my diary that I was in love. Now, I think...I realize I wasn't in love with James. I was in love with what he was, and even more than that, what I wanted him to be. He wasn't what I wanted, though. He was just a little boy who was in love with the feeling of being in love more than he was with me. I guess we were equally guilty of that.