I'm just a normal girl. I'm really just a normal girl, with a normal crappy family. I have a pair of nagging parents who hate my to my guts and I have a sister who yells at me simply because she's having PMS. I don't have a quick brain and most of the time it just suspends in midair.
Really just a normal girl.
I don't understand what is it that makes people turn sometimes, looking at me as if I'm some goddess/ET (pick one) when I walk on the streets. I don't think I am pretty, just unique. I don't think I'm ugly, just a bit boyish in face.
There's no one else whom I care about, but myself, because no one else cares about me.
Well, there are people whom I care about, but I will never care about them as much as I do myself, because I don't trust them.
Actually, I do. I just don't want to admit that I do. Sometimes I treat them like shit, even though I don't mean it.
I don't know why this happens to me, because I am really a normal girl.
Let's treat it like a fairy tale.
I was at the bookstore, and I saw him. He was sitting down at the books section, at the bookstore, reading a book on drums, as if his life depends on it. At first sight, I know this person must be in love with music. And… I don't know what I am thinking. I was measuring the width of my shoulders against his, seeing whose is wider. I was seeing how haggard he looked.
But I liked him so much.
It felt so warmth, I dreamt of him every day since that night.
It had been a special day, too.
His hair was long, tinted red, and his face pointed at the chin. His skin was pale, as pale as cherry blossoms, nothing like mine which makes me feel so ugly when I just stand near him.
He moved grudgingly, as if knowing he was in the way, as I reached out to take this score book of my favorite band. There wasn't any expression; he simply looked at me with indifference.
That day happened to be the test of my Japanese class, and I was let off early, so I had time to go to the bookstore before it closed.
And since that day, I couldn't forget him.
The next week, same time, same place, I went to wait for him. He was there. He spoke a language I could barely understand, and his friend was there, too. I greeted his friend with surprise; as I had seen him once before, at a gig.
I asked him, "Do you like music?"
He only understood this. He had looked at his friend for every thing which I said. I had asked, earlier, whether he had been there the earlier week, and he had confirmed it. "YES!" Then he said something else which I can't understand.
"He plays the guitar," his friend tells me.
"I see… .I guessed so," I reply, smiling. His friend wasn't, but he was. I could tell that he was starting to like me as well.
I guess I'm really a normal, bimbotic girl, huh?
Anyway, the story goes on.
The next week he was there. I talked to him again; his name was Sakura. I was still dreaming of him every day, his warmth…. What I liked about him was the warmth which he radiated. We weren't able to communicate much; but he understood what I was trying to say, with my hand gestures and cheerful smile. He smiled at me, too. I think that was the happiest feeling alive.
The next week I learnt how to say "are you free?" in his language. And we went out to have ice cream. He's a really sweet person…. . I couldn't help but feel this way. I don't feel deserving; but I knew that I was even starting to love him.
It didn't have anything to do with whether he loved me or not.
And another week later, he says he's going back to his country.
I know he doesn't want to, I know…. ..
I want to go with him, he says, okay. Once he has a place to stay on his own. He's a really normal rocker teenager…. .. Even more normal than me, because he's loved. He seemed to look forward to it…. .
But somehow, he's gone, forever and ever. I wonder if he's dead, or anything. He said he'd write. But he didn't. It's been weeks and weeks and weeks and he doesn't appear anymore. Sometimes, I'd sit at the same place which he'd sat, the place which I think I feel warmth radiate.
I guess I'm really deluded, after all, huh?
My family didn't help. No one did. That happens when you're all alone like I am.
Well, it doesn't matter. Because I have this bottle of pills by my side. I know they'll take me to his side, again…. ..
Hidoko Matsumoto
Monday, September 18, 2000 7:59:39 PM
Comments: Okay, I'm really pissed. This is what you get with a gothling-the-second-le-cherrios who wants to die and wants to live on to brag about how much she wants to die, so sue me. …*le sigh* You can sue my sis for the self insertion I finally put in this fic. I never wanted to put myself in fics, but this time, there is a personal basis, anyway I'm writing it to calm myself down.
Cheerios!
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