He smiled affectionately at me as he inched the spoon closer and closer to my mouth and oh my, was the taste sweet.
Hi, I’m Molly and that guy with the spoon, he’s Jeff, we’re in love but he sucks, I’m on my break at the moment, I work at Pizza Magic and Jeff fucked up, so he’s hear stuffing ice cream into my mouth and pretending that we’re happy and I’m doing pretty well at pretending too, I’m laughing, maybe a bit too loud, my boss just gave me the eyes and wrinkled his little Mexican moustache, I blew him a kiss, fuck him, I know my mum already has. He just rolled his eyes and went back to make another gourmet chicken or something. Oh shit, the snobs from school just walked in, look at them in their filthy fucking varsity jackets, like they belong to something, they are pieces of shit, they’ll be fucked when this year is over, and I mean literally, they will all be pregnant because their Christian minds are just as closed as their legs will be until graduation when they all start planning their wedding to their meat head foot ball boyfriends.
Jeff was a little older than I, just two years and a few months, I couldn’t tell you how many exactly, I don’t even know his birthday, there’s a lot I don’t know about him, I have my theories that he might be a drug dealer or a spy or something, the way he’s always disappearing without a trace or a word, he’s an asshole. But, I love him, a lot. This is the sixth time that we’ve met, this whole back and forth thing has been going on for about six months now, He draws me in, wins me over and then he leaves and I cry and picture him in impossible cliché situations, like him just turning up at my house or calling me up and asking me out to dinner or something, I know what you’re thinking, “Jesus, you idiot just call him up and ask him yourself” or “Fuck, that’s impossible, I thought you were going to say he flew up to your window and confessed his eternal burning love for you or something, asking you out for dinner, what are you talking about?” and it’s complicated alright, It’s so complicated that I don’t even know what I’m talking about or whatever. He just goes, I don’t know where he goes, I don’t know what he does but I hate it because I don’t know what to do, I’m stuck there, I don’t know whether we’re still a thing or if I’ll ever see him again or if I can fuck that hot guy that works at the CD shop that’s like ten years older than me but who cares. He always comes back. Always. And I let him. I just love him a lot and it’s so crazy because we both think that love is the most lame, most grossest thing but we always find each other, or he always finds me, I always wait and fuck numerous people in between but it’s different this time, I don’t know what’s going on, not that I ever did but it’s just a mind fuck really, it’s the worst thing I ever got myself into, I wish I never met him, until I look at that lovely Dave Grohl smile and those insanely perfect eyes and I get nervous and I fall apart in front of him, not in the crying sense but just in the kind of vulnerable crumbling human before you type of thing, I never cried in front of him, once I almost did because he was being a douche and he didn’t know it and he told me that he loved my eyes and the way that I dressed and that when he looked into my eyes it was just awesome, He says a lot of things though, it’s hard to decipher the truth anymore, I think I might just kill myself soon, seems like the only way out of this. This is the only thing I have going for me, but I hate it, I wish I could be with him, I want it more than anything ad I can picture it, but then again, when we got together, I never pictured him ignoring me and me getting even more emotionally unstable than ever, I used to think I wanted to kill myself before I met him but now I feel it, sometimes I just lay in bed and take all of these pills just to see what happens and then I go all shaky and I fall asleep but then I wake up in the morning and I don’t know what to do with myself, So I just get up and have a shower and listen to the most morbid music ever and then wonder why I’m so depressed and then Jeff will come back and I’ll be fixed and happy again, he’ll stay for a few days, sometimes he even makes it to a week and then he goes again, sometimes, when he goes, it’s on days when we had plans and he never lets me know and he never picks me up and I go home and cry my eyes out and try not to pick up the nearest sharp thing and drag it across my skin, I try not to do that, I think it’s just such an embarrassing habit, Shit just gets really bad sometimes and I get stuck, even though I’m always stuck.
So, I’m pretty much the most ridiculous person you will ever meet, right. I am out-dated beyond my time, that’s actually an in fashion thing but I don’t like in fashion things, so my whole personality contradicts itself, I like music from any time except this one, Well, some of it is okay, I like the not mainstream stuff, the stuff that goes unseen, I feel like I’m in a different world sometimes when it comes to music, I love older music, the eighties were probably my favourite but I listen to things dated back to the fifties, My favourite band is The Stone Roses, they just soak me up, they’re great, my walls are plastered with them and I own pretty much anything I can get my hands on that has to do with them and they are just perfect, I wish I could have seen them live.
I’m really tired all the time, I’m practically falling asleep on Jeff at work, he’s lending me his shoulder for now but he’ll probably leave soon and then who the fuck know when I will see him again, I hate him, I wish I could just emotionally destroy him sometimes, I wish I could just break his heart into little tiny pieces and stomp on it and watch him ball his eyes out like a little baby on the floor because that is what he does to me except he isn’t around to watch the tears, oh no, he is long gone, and I’m still waiting up for him for hours. I don’t eat, well, I do, I eat dinner and I eat on weekends because Mum and Dad are home but I never eat, that’s why I’m tired, it gets hard sometimes, I passed out in English once and I begged Miss Tolhurst for a solid half an hour to not tell my parents and she didn’t, It’s only a small class so I managed to convince the other people too.
My town is fucked, it always smells like cheap burgers in town and everybody drives electric lawn mowers instead of cars, it was this new trend that came in three years ago, they figured out how to run them on rechargeable “triple A” batteries and apparently it’s heaps better for the environment or something, I see about three cars a day now and one of them is mine, I get called a lot of things for not conforming with the lawnmower trend, My favourite was this lady the other day, she called me a Satanist and the next morning when I came out to go to work, there was an inverted cross spray painted on the front of my car, I don’t have the money to fix that, I guess I could just go get graffiti remover but my car needs a full coat of paint sometime soon any way, it’s rocking like six different colours right now, i bought it from this fat bald man last year for a hundred and thirty bucks, it runs fine, it just looks like a piece of shit and he wanted to get rid of it because he couldn’t fit his and his wives lawn mowers in the shed, I think that when it was first made, it might have been a Pulsar but it’s had a lot of modifications over the years and I don’t even know what it is but I love it, it’s my baby and now my baby is a living, petrol filled antichrist and I’m going to own that because it’s fucking hilarious. Something else about my town that is totally fucked up is that there is this serial killer, in all seriousness and he likes to iron, like, for years, Where’s mum? Oh look the ironings done, holy shit, Never see mum again, until three days later when, dun dun dun, a bunch of little girls find her on the beach with a burn mark in the shape of an iron on her back, sometimes the victims aren’t even found, people over the years have had theories that maybe people just did the ironing and left, broke free from their lives and staged their own deaths, I might do that one day, my ironing pile is getting a bit out of hand.
I’m in love with Steve Buscemi and we’re going to get married, When I go home at night, my form of journal entries are just letters to him, sometimes I draw him pictures and stuff and they just stay in my little journal forever. As far as actors go though, I love a lot of them, I spend most of my time watching movies actually and planning to watch other movies when I’m not watching movies, I don’t really have friends, so I just fill my life up with stuff, I’m like a hoarder almost, I buy new books, cds, records, movies atleast once a week, I’ve been reading the same book for like a month and a half now and in that time I’ve bought atleast ten new books.
Jeff is leaving now, he nudges my head with his shoulder a bit, implying for me to get off him, I have to go back in and finish off my shift in five minutes, He kisses me, it’s good, he’s a good kisser, I try not to be too involved in the kiss though because I wish I wasn’t too involved in him, it’s going to destroy me one day, more severely than it already has, I just live hoping for the best, he pulls away but he still has me by the waist, he looks at me a second and then he kisses my forehead and gets up and leaves and I go back into the kitchen and take some fat snooty bitches order.
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