I Don’t Give A Damn About Your Boyfriend, I Want To Be With You Anyway

@alexandrahraskova
@alexandrahraskova

I remember the first time I ever stole something. It was one of those expandable water toys, a small purple whale my cousin has left on her desk. I stashed it in my pocket, took it home, expanded it, then felt really guilty afterwards. That was the first, but not the last time. There was the t-shirt I took from a friend who owed me an insane sum of money, the spare USB cable my sister had and never used again, the soda bottles I had just last month during a graduation.

No need to say it – I’m no thief. But how is it that all I want to do is steal her away?

That was never my intention. I swear. The day I met her, I didn’t even wait to get home – as soon as I got in the car, I stalker her social networks and found what I dreaded. That is, a boyfriend. I started the car, hit the pedal, and left things alone. All I did was tell my best friend I had just met the loveliest girl, and that I was sure I’d see her again. And I did.

That second time was harder. Probably it’s all in my mind, but in only one month her smile had grown more amazing. Her skin more flawless. And her eyes… We started talking and I knew that, if I let it be, I’d be in trouble. My best friend was there. Yeah, she’s lovely, he told me. By then lovely wasn’t good enough to describe her. But, after another impromptu social network check, same result – still with the boyfriend.

And the third time I was screwed. We spent half a day together, even driving her home to get a few items we needed for a project. I didn’t even want to stalk her, I just rebelled in her company. As each second passed, I was in deeper and deeper. Started sharing those damn secrets that haunt me. That is, until it was almost time to leave, and her lips pronounced his name. Soon enough, he was there to take her home. How the hell did that guy get so lucky?

I used to be a masochist, way back. No longer. So, repeating myself, no intention to chase her. No more words for her.

So, of course, a couple of months later, she needs help with her final project, and I’m just the guy. And we talk. And talk. And talk some more. And before long, I had nailed my own coffin. I had fallen for those damn eyes. Her beautiful, angelical voice. Her lips, that looked as sweet as they tasted. I’m not going to be melodramatic, just brief – you know those kisses that can, at the same time, freeze earth and make it spin three dozen times harder? That was due for me the day I finally kissed her.

This can’t happen. The three damn words that followed, weeks later. Yes, no, maybe, the dance took on forever until everything fell apart. It was no surprise, though, being that the final destination for every good thing in my life. Goodbye, freckles.

Fall went by, winter went by. And I was pulled back toward her. And she was pulled back toward me. We collided, exploded, pulled away again. Pulled back again. It’s like gravity, you know? I can’t seem to shake her. Not like I want to, either. She lets me feel things I thought long lost. But, yeah, she’s still got her boyfriend. And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

I don’t give a damn about the time they’ve spent together. Nor about the pure feelings they may harbor for each other. Nor about the big bond their families might have forged, or the mutual friends, or the experiences they’ve shared.

I don’t give a damn.

I want her. I want her so bad I would gladly become a thief for her. A burglar, a robber, you name it. I would plead guilty to any crime because it’s not every day that you find someone like her, and I’ve lived enough to be sure of that. I’d rather be a criminal than idly watch her ride into the sunset.

I’m selfish. Surprise. There’s that whole if you love someone, let them go.

Yeah, well, no, that doesn’t suit me. No, thank you. I’d rather risk her happiness and have her fall for me. Selfish bastard, I am.

But hang in there for a minute. When have I ever done anything not in line with her success? Or with putting that heavenly smile upon her face? I am what I am. Bad things, good things. My cocktail of angels and demons can be the worst thing, yes, or the best thing that’s ever happened to her. We’ll be each other’s biggest challenge, we’ll fight, and we’ll become bigger together. That’s for sure. And she knows that. That’s why the idea of us terrifies her so much.

I want her, I really do. So I’ll take anything. All of you? Deal. Part of you? Deal. Forced to share you? What the hell, way better than not getting to touch your skin. I’ve warned you time and time again, and I’d like to warn you again – I am that selfish.

I am willing to steal you, even though I got to warn you, I don’t need to. Know why?

Because you’ve been mine ever since the first day I met you. You just don’t know it yet, freckles.

Hang on. TC mark

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