ERIC (2)

This boy and his demands, I swear.


It is now 4:40am, and no, I still have not slept.


I've never actually told him that I've had feelings for him. Those words were never directly stated, in fact, knowing me, I may not even be capable of saying them.
We've skirted around the issue, though, often enough for him to get the point, I think. I remember once he told me that once he saw a girl... choosing certain lifestyle habits, he could never be interested in them romantically. I remember cringing inwardly as soon as he told me that, the weight of possibility disappearing without a backward glance and leaving behind a heaviness greater than that of possibility itself.
I was foolish, though, to expect in the first place. It's just that he's so nice at times that I can't help myself.
Sometimes, when I'm out late, or early, depending on how you look at it, I'll think of him and what he said, and how he never really pressures me to quit anything, but sometimes he'll tell me that I shouldn't, that I mustn't. Like when I'm racking lines on CD cases, or sitting on railroad tracks, smoking, walking through streets slightly buzzed.
But to be honest, such thoughts have the unfortunate effect of pushing me closer to recklessness; I think about him, then rack another line, take another drag, take another swig. Maybe to forget or to avoid; knowing me, probably a bit of both.
Not that it really matters, anyway.

To be honest, there's still a slight tugging. When he says he'll take me to the beach, when he calls me funny, when he mentions fireworks. I try and ignore it, always, but I've never been one to completely deny things; I have to admit that it's there, tugging...