That oblivion wrapped around your skin

Is this pathetic yet?
Well, that's what I do best.

It's all we've got

..secrecy, to live and die in;
in place of people we'd learn to exist without.

It's bad enough we get along so well

Why do we have to raise Hell upon ourselves? What inner demons posses us to keep ourselves chained to this numbing limbo; this unbearable in-between? Why do we tell our souls not to love? Why do we forsake "what if"s for compatibility? I'm tired of assumptions, I'm tired of stealing glances, I'm tired and tired and tired, and sick of being tired!

Where is that comfort in your secrecy? I must digress, I see none in my own..but in every second that I may, through the subtlest means, steal away; there, I see the spaces above contentment, beyond pacification.

For that, I will curb my assumptions. For that, I will be a thief, a master of the trade and legend in its skill..regardless of fatigue and discouragement and frustration

You don't have to be like this

Why're you so stubborn, and why won't you let me in? I'm all over every emotion you lash out, like a sad little girl doting over dolls. What're you afraid of? I'd take care of you; of everything..isn't that obvious? Don't I, already, whenever you tug back the slightest bit?

..all you have to do is jump. I, on the other hand, have to keep this impatient little pump in my ribs alive and beating.

This conversation never happened

I am ready to burst, at the seams.

This can't be healthy

I honestly think I like you more than I've ever actually liked anyone, before. You don't even see what you do; my heart in my stomach and my stomach in knots. I can't even get to you the way they do. What do I have to do to get inside of you? I'll do anything..be anything, to be yours.

Who am I kidding, I already am yours..you've got me, undeniably.

It's been months of calling you amazing, from afar..and, somehow, the months don't matter half as much as one smile. Everytime.

So here's the script

A black SUV is out, in the rain; the poor thing, with its headlights suffering past sleepiness. Jack is inside, tap tap tap, drumming his fingers lazily along the dashboard. She's been in there for hours, now.

Maybe he'll watch how every raindrop that crashes onto the window swerves and collides into the others. Maybe he'll try and predict which one the latest member of the crew is bound to fall into. Maybe she'll finally get her sorry ass and jet-black hair out of that whore-house.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jack..whew, some party", she sighs, out of breath. It's a happy sigh; the mere fact that she had the courtesy to apologize meant she got what she had come for, a nice sloppy kiss off that cute boy at gym class or that girl with pink highlights at the bowling alley, Jack never knew anymore, Jack couldn't keep up.

"Anya had a whole shitload of drinks..not those cheapo ones we score for our little get-togethers, mind you. Real hard hitting, throat burning, fine stuff, y'know? God, she's loaded. Those kids get anything they want like that" (insert synchronized snap.)

Just like you. "Mmm? Did you say something, Jack?" Nothing.."I love you."