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Description
“I never thought that it would hurt so much to care.” Her fingers were laced with each other, creating a little weave pattern across her right knee. Her left foot was tucked under her right thigh and her right foot under her left knee. Her eyes were plastered to the carpet in front of the couch she was perched on. She felt threads of hair tousled by the ceiling fan tickling her bare arms. Her sigh shifted the bottom hem of her oversized t-shirt a little farther up her bare thigh. The room was cool and inviting—a room to be lived in—not that the scenery helped much.
«…»
“It hurts like…I mean, look at us. We have so little in common, it’s phenomenal that we get along. He’s outgoing, I’m introverted; he thinks with his heart, I think with my brain; he acts pessimistic most of the time, whereas I keep trying to encourage him. But we don’t even have that ‘opposites attract’ thing going on. We have so few things to hold us together that… I don’t know. How are we holding together?” She gave the floor a pained frown. Her eyes narrowed as if to close themselves against the pain, but she couldn’t find it in herself to allow them to shut completely. She couldn’t blind herself to her situation.
«…»
“I feel like I’m turning into a hopeless freaking romantic! Look, I know it isn’t really a ‘feeling,’ but that’s the only thing coming to me. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel depressed. I feel miserable.” She paused with a sigh, her eyes drifting to lap. “But I still feel happy that I know him and happy that I’m with him. Like when he stopped by out of nowhere the other day, I felt my heart skip. I still feel like there’s something there I’ve never had before and I…I want it to blossom.” Her lips curved into a smile. Her head tilted slightly. Her eyes relaxed at half-mast and became a little glazed.
«…»
Her lips tightened and she furrowed her brow. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve never felt like this before! I mean, it’s strange and wonderful and sad and scary. Part of me wants to run away. But I don’t want this feeling to go away. It hurts as it is, but I think…I think it would hurt worse if it went away.”
«…»
She gave a skeptical look to the carpet. “Absolutely not! I won’t call it love. I refuse to! We haven’t known each other long enough for that. And before you ask, no, I don’t believe in love at first sight. That load of crap is for romantics much more hopeless than me.” She gave a wry grin to the carpet and shook her head. Climbing from the couch, she began pacing the room, swaying as she walked and pausing as she turned. “I just wish it didn’t have to make me feel so torn.”
«…»
She paused, allowing a thought to bubble within her mind. She stole a glance toward the opposite chair, then snapped her eyes back to the carpet and gave a grimace. “What exactly are you trying to tell me? That—that loving someone has a lot of different dimensions and—and people really only focus on the whole ‘undying devotion and affection’ part? That maybe…just maybe…this mess of different, confusing, counteracting emotions is somehow normal?” She allowed that idea to steep as she paced, following the length of the room three more times. She wrung her hands as she walked.
«…»
“Well, I already knew that, I think.” She stopped in front of the chair and fidgeted.
«…»
Sighing, she gave her gaze to the ceiling fan and whispered to herself, “This whole therapy thing would work so much better if I had more than an empty chair to talk to.”

Description
“I never thought that it would hurt so much to care.” Her fingers were laced with each other, creating a little weave pattern across her right knee. Her left foot was tucked under her right thigh and her right foot under her left knee. Her eyes were plastered to the carpet in front of the couch she was perched on. She felt threads of hair tousled by the ceiling fan tickling her bare arms. Her sigh shifted the bottom hem of her oversized t-shirt a little farther up her bare thigh. The room was cool and inviting—a room to be lived in—not that the scenery helped much.
«…»
“It hurts like…I mean, look at us. We have so little in common, it’s phenomenal that we get along. He’s outgoing, I’m introverted; he thinks with his heart, I think with my brain; he acts pessimistic most of the time, whereas I keep trying to encourage him. But we don’t even have that ‘opposites attract’ thing going on. We have so few things to hold us together that… I don’t know. How are we holding together?” She gave the floor a pained frown. Her eyes narrowed as if to close themselves against the pain, but she couldn’t find it in herself to allow them to shut completely. She couldn’t blind herself to her situation.
«…»
“I feel like I’m turning into a hopeless freaking romantic! Look, I know it isn’t really a ‘feeling,’ but that’s the only thing coming to me. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel depressed. I feel miserable.” She paused with a sigh, her eyes drifting to lap. “But I still feel happy that I know him and happy that I’m with him. Like when he stopped by out of nowhere the other day, I felt my heart skip. I still feel like there’s something there I’ve never had before and I…I want it to blossom.” Her lips curved into a smile. Her head tilted slightly. Her eyes relaxed at half-mast and became a little glazed.
«…»
Her lips tightened and she furrowed her brow. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve never felt like this before! I mean, it’s strange and wonderful and sad and scary. Part of me wants to run away. But I don’t want this feeling to go away. It hurts as it is, but I think…I think it would hurt worse if it went away.”
«…»
She gave a skeptical look to the carpet. “Absolutely not! I won’t call it love. I refuse to! We haven’t known each other long enough for that. And before you ask, no, I don’t believe in love at first sight. That load of crap is for romantics much more hopeless than me.” She gave a wry grin to the carpet and shook her head. Climbing from the couch, she began pacing the room, swaying as she walked and pausing as she turned. “I just wish it didn’t have to make me feel so torn.”
«…»
She paused, allowing a thought to bubble within her mind. She stole a glance toward the opposite chair, then snapped her eyes back to the carpet and gave a grimace. “What exactly are you trying to tell me? That—that loving someone has a lot of different dimensions and—and people really only focus on the whole ‘undying devotion and affection’ part? That maybe…just maybe…this mess of different, confusing, counteracting emotions is somehow normal?” She allowed that idea to steep as she paced, following the length of the room three more times. She wrung her hands as she walked.
«…»
“Well, I already knew that, I think.” She stopped in front of the chair and fidgeted.
«…»
Sighing, she gave her gaze to the ceiling fan and whispered to herself, “This whole therapy thing would work so much better if I had more than an empty chair to talk to.”