DESCRIPTION
Has your girlfriend ever asked you that question before? The usual response from a man is "nothing." Of course this can lead to trouble. [1,028 words]
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What Are You Thinking About? Darcy K Metz
She was sitting there on the bed across from me, staring at me blankly. Drove me nuts it did. Why couldn’t she believe me when I said that nothing was wrong, that nothing was on my mind? “What are you thinking?” she would always ask in that inquisitive manner; an expression on her face of anticipation like a child, no, closer to the look my dog offers me when I pick up the truck keys or put my shoes on.
What am I thinking? – What sort of a question is that to ask a man? My thoughts are my own. If I desired to share them with you I would. She looks at me like she’s expecting the word of God to spew forth from my oral cavity. Give me a break! I’m just your average guy with an average job with his average desires and average goals in life. What could I possibly ever be thinking of that is profound and life changing? What could I possibly be thinking of that could alter the course of history? Sorry to disappoint you, but no I haven’t come up with a solution to the Middle East crisis. Sorry babe, but I don’t know why Nicholas Cage keeps making movies; and no, I positively don’t know where you put on those ten pounds.
She didn’t have to get out of bed over this. I mean she didn’t have to go and sleep on my couch, the couch that sheds thanks to my efficient fifty-kilogram canine hair manufacturer. My girlfriend shouldn’t have to sleep on my couch in my house over something so stupid. In the eight months that we’ve been together she has never done that except for when my methane emissions require a window to be left open. I expect she’ll be gone by morning since she has to work at the bank.
What right does she have to be upset with me? As far as I can tell I’m an excellent boyfriend. I’m no pushover either. I won’t do something I really don’t want to, but I’ll sometimes do something I hate to surprise her. Oh, like the time I stayed home and watched the final episode of Big Brother with her when I could have been pounding back jugs of draft at the pub with the guys. Or that night I watched both Grease and Hope Floats with her and managed to keep my DVD-like audio commentary internalized. I had that Greased Lightning song in my head for weeks! What kind of a boyfriend would spend a day at the mall with his woman furnishing opinions on no less than the 18,500 pairs of shoes she tried on? –That’s right, one hell of a boyfriend thank you very much. Well she knows that I’ll never sit in on a Pampered Chef or candle party again after she denied me access to the sex toy party she hosted.
Damn, it’s 1:12 am; she’s been on the couch just over two hours now. I know her, and I know that she isn’t sleeping yet.
I’ve done the things that I’m supposed to do as a boyfriend. I mean she knows how I feel about her, I let her know continually. I told her I missed her when she went on that spa weekend. I tell her how excellent it feels to wake up next to her in the middle of the night. I continuously let her know in numerous ways how good she feels. She knows I would never be insincere about such things, how she is too important to me. Then why do I feel so terrible here alone and awake in my bed, as she certainly is awake also on the shedding couch?
Nothing has ever felt more caustic, more unsettling than knowing I’ve disappointed or upset someone I love, and I made the woman I love cry and leave my bed!
I can’t believe I did that. She just wanted to hear me tell her I love her. I was thinking to myself how much I love this woman at the very instance that she asked me what I was thinking. So I tell her I wasn’t thinking of anything, what a stupid fool thing to do. Oh no, I can’t believe it. She has never heard me say that before. I’ve never actually verbalized to her that I love her.
What was that? Great, door slammed means she went home.
Don’t believe I’ll be able to sleep well now, of course that’s my own stupid fault. Wow and I always thought I was a real man’s man. I even own a full sized Dodge Ram pickup. Afraid it looks like I’m nothing more than a coward hiding behind the guise of being a man, and in doing so I’ve avoided all risk involving expression of my feelings. Why would I be so afraid? So what if I’ve been rejected before, everyone gets rejected. We’re all a bunch of rejects!
No, I refuse to lose this woman. I have to tell her, it’s long over due. She’s told me before. First time she said it to me I felt so good, so important, so wanted and now that I think about it, so scared too. But I never said it in return at the time, I just smiled at her and held her close and kissed her. That was three months ago, and she hasn’t said it lately. It’s still there though in the way she looks at me when she first sees me for the day or the way she exudes relief when I hug her after she’s had a lousy day.
I should phone her. No, wait until morning; be sure to catch her before she leaves for work. Yes, head over to her place early and just tell her, just say it, just make sure she knows. I’ll tell her I love her and tell her how important she is to me. I’ll tell it like it is. I’ll tell her what she should have heard by now, what she more than deserves to hear. So simple too. I’ll tell her I love her.
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"This is good, it made me laugh. But I wonder - is there a touch of wishful thinking here? Either way it makes little difference, I read it from begining to end and enjoyed it, maybe it's 'cause I like those 1st person things. I'll probably read another one when I get time." -- Fergus O'Ferguson.
"Darcy! Wow! For such a simple "man's man" you have a profound spirit. Great job with the story. It was thought provoking and well written." -- Karen.
"good writing, slightly too long. i like it, but a little too sappy." -- sunny, DC, USA.
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