Prove Me Wrong


Since the beginning, I knew where this would end up. I knew what would happen.

I can see his face everywhere. Like the other ones that I’ve met. Perhaps, the thousands of them.

But we only met once. And I easily forget.

He was good looking in a baby face sort of way. Once he saw me, his face reflected a clear admiration. Like when you give a kid his new puppy. The questioning in his eyes matched with sparks of joy. I knew I had him trapped then.

I hope he was not like the others. Let him be the one to prove me wrong.

Talking to him was, well, like a kid given his new puppy. He was giddy, excited to talk to any topics I throw.

Then I asked him the serious ones. The ones I wanted to know. The ones I needed proof.

As he opened his mouth to state the struggles he had talking to girls, the failed relationships, the rants overflowing, I knew I was right. I felt the familiar feeling of wanting to puke. My world spinning heavy and darkness creeping at the corners of my eyes. Not again.

He stopped as he saw me staring straight at him.

“Did I say something wrong?”, he asked.

“No. You’re just very talkative”, I lied.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m just caught up with my stories”, he explained. But I knew better.

“It’s okay. I just think sometimes, you should be forced to shut up,” I said and pulled his face to mine. Gave him a hard kiss.

He was gasping for air and clearly confused.

“Go on. Please continue your story..”, I said smiling. Tasting the bitterness of his lies underlying in my moist lips.

We spent hours talking continuously. I interrupt him now and then for hard kisses hoping he’d get my message. Hoping we can stop this game.

He’s like every other boy I met. Nothing special.

He called me months after that. Shocked that he remembered me, I agreed to meet. I was always the curious one.

Same as the first time we saw each other, he can’t hide the joy in his eyes.

“What happened to you?”, I kissed his cheeks. He blushed.

He says he’s been busy. I smiled. Look how my time got wasted.

I said I understand.

I tried to talk to some vague things to figure out what he wanted without being obvious. But he seems distant, he’s thinking of how to tell me something.

“Now what really happened?,” I asked. I can’t waste any more time.

“W-what?,” he cleared his throat. I caught him off guard.

“What happened dear? You’re going to tell me something,” I’m losing my patience.

“Well, I.. I have a girlfriend,” he confessed. I already knew that. But I pressed on.

“You had a girlfriend before, during, or after we met?”, I asked.

He’s terrified now. Beads of sweat racing down his neck. Funny how they think they can fool me.

“Well?,” I asked again. I am beginning to enjoy torturing him.

He stared down. Weighing his options.

Should I torment him more? Maybe throw some facts? How he felt envious of the people around him and realized manipulating women will boost his ego.

I’ve done it before, maybe I could do it again. I wonder how he looks like crying.

He looked at me and I realized I was smiling. “I..Uhmm..”, he said.

I held his face gently, imagining how easily I could crush his skull. How I can send pain through his nerves without much effort. But I held back. It’s enough to make him still.

“It’s all right, darling”, I said sweetly and kissed him hard. Sending very little longing to his mind that will grow as time passes.

I stopped and laughed. Such a waste of lovely face, this boy.

I left him with his eyes still closed. It will take some time before it would sink it that I’m already gone.

Another year has been added to my curse. This one is just another passing face.

I need to find him. The one who will prove me wrong. My freedom.

I walked out of that place mapping out another strategy when my phone rings. I am getting tired of this game.

“Hey..”, I adjusted my voice sweetly. But I’m also enjoying it, I admit.

“Hey, are you free for coffee?”, the voice I recognized as the boy I met at some convention last week.

“Sure”, I smiled excitedly. After all, I’m always a curious one.

PMW

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