speak softly

Sighing, I check my watch for the seventh time. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. I catch mom spying on me from behind the kitchen curtain. I know what she's thinking: Why didn't I listen to her? Pondering the same question, I convince myself that I have made a terrible mistake. Angry, I bend down to scoop up my things and go back inside.

What a waste of time.

Should have listened to mom. Even though she's zealous and overprotective and rarely gives anyone (that being boys) a chance, ninety-five percent of the time she's right.

Well, maybe that's giving her too much credit. After all that big of a number makes me look naive. I mean, I'm not that ignorant. Guess it's an even number-you know a fifty-fifty split for the both of us. Still. I was so stupid to think that Leon was actually interested in me.

It's not like I've kept my feelings for him a secret. Everyone (who cares) knows. That type of advertisement gives the public license to mock me for the rest of my miserable life. This whole date could have been a scheme to humiliate me. Although, being stood up does not measure up to half the shit that's been tossed at me. So this would plummet into the category of the least embarrassing (and most likely to be forgotten) things to occur in my life.

But saying that only deepens the pain severing through my heart. It hurts. And I know that when I go back inside, mom's going to try lecture and comfort me with her 'I told you so''s and the emotional wreck inside of me will listen half-heartedly, then upstairs alone in the pitch blackness of my room, I will cry until there is not a tear left to cry. Then I will suck it up and move on. That's the mature thing to do. But if you have ever liked someone, really liked them, your wounds don't heal overnight.

So I will only be kidding myself thinking that I can get over Leon with a thirty minute tantrum.

Turning towards the road, I watch for a few minutes more, hoping that he shows up. That my anxiety had been over nothing. There has to be a logical explanation, right? Maybe he's stuck in traffic or forgot my street address.

Or stood me up.

And that explanation seems to be weighing heavily on my mind. It wouldn't be the first time. Guys have previously done this to me before. What's to say that this would be different?

Because he smiled at you like none of those guys did, I say to myself. Because when he spoke to you, it was with genuine interest and not because he was forced to.

He didn't have to speak to you when you greeted him in the hallway. He didn't have to sit next to you or offer to join you in detention when you got caught passing his notes back. He didn't have to do any of those things that he did.

But he did do them. Because he liked you. He said he did. And you knew it was true.

Why now do I have to doubt him? Because he's a little late? Okay, he's more then a little late. But still. Why can't I just trust him like I have before? I'm scared, I am really scared. I just don't want to be made out to be some desperate girl hunting for a date. That's pathetic. People already think I'm a slut, courtesy of the rumors the guys who supposedly claimed to like me help spread.

Leon's not showing up would make things worse and completely scar my reputation. And yes, that happens to mean a lot to me. You can't just walk around with 'Sticks and stones may break my bones , but words will never hurt me'. Motto's like that make you weak and you never stand up to defend yourself because 'Words can't hurt me'- but they do hurt. You can't ignore that.

I don't want mom to think I'm an emotional wreck, who, for the rest of her life will need a shrink to size her emotions so that she's stable enough to waltz back in to another relationship.

Happiness is all I want from my life without disappointment vouching to tag along to dampen it.

He's not coming. That's it. That's the end of it. I can't stand out here forever. It's too cold.

Mom emerges from the kitchen as I close the front door, that sympathetic look of 'I told you so' on her face.

"So, are we staying inside?"

"Looks like it." I say as I hike up the stairs to my bedroom.

"Do you want something to eat?" She shouts.

"No. Good-night."

I want to be left alone. No I won't cry. But I will sulk. I wish he had never looked at me. I wish he hadn't.