I had convinced myself I don’t need any of it, that they could keep the whole darn cake to themselves, cherries and all. I don’t like cake… Well, I do, but not white forest… For obvious reasons. It’s too white. Too clean. I hate cherries. It lacks character. It’s bland – colour bland. It’s a spin-off from black forest, which is the best. So no, I didn’t want it. I don’t. Plus, I’m watching my weight now…. Yes, I said it.
All day the cake sat in the display, and all I did was come up with reasons why I didn’t want to eat it. Why I didn’t want to want to eat it. Because God also cared what I put in my body, and all that sugar isn’t fit for any temple, much less his. All day I told myself that this cake, which everybody expects me to think is yummy, isn’t my kind of yummy, and someone else would be better suited to eat it. Some amazing girl with metabolism from the gods that could swallow a whole hog and still be trim and in shape. Someone like my sister. But I didn’t just think it… I acted on it. I got her to come and have the cake. And she did… Fork in hand, getting all nice and stuffed, eating the cake with such ease that I thought she had been secretly practising how to eat cake in front of the mirror. Which reminded me of how daft I looked while looking into the said mirror, not knowing what to do. And as she are that cake, I could feel admiration slowly becoming jealousy. I had that cake first. Heck, I bought the damn cake. It was mine… And here she was, cake gliding effortlessly down her throat as if it wanted oh-so-earnestly to be swallowed by her. At that moment, I hated the cake… I hated her.
But of course, I’m not talking about cake… Or my sister. 😀
There’s a certain breed of guys I find myself gravitating towards… And thank God they do not know it yet.
The kind that should know better, but don’t. The kind that have no clue what it takes, or means, to keep a girl happy… Or just maybe acts that way… The kind that look like they don’t want to touch a girl with a ten-foot pole. The kind that sends the text that kills all conversation, and you have to wrack your brain to bring up something else. The kind that is adorable, but hates to hear it. The kind that shares in the same peculiarities, that shares the same secret pleasures as I, but away from the public eye. The kind of guy whose statements almost always sound mean, until you get to know them, and understand that no harm was meant by them…. The kind that fit many of these descriptions, and then some, because they are bigger than any descriptions. The kind that also happens to be some of this, and none of it at the same time. The kind that confuses me….
The kind that doesn’t really fit into the criteria of whom I should like, but that I do anyway. The kind that would probably laugh if they knew I’m into them. The kind that may stumble across this one day, and then deny that they ever know me, that they have any association with me. The kind that defies stereotypes, that guy that feeds me a whole lot more than anybody else ever has in any given environment, give or take. The kind that makes me all giddy and all comfortable at the same time. The kind of guy that makes me write a post at one am, despite my resolutions to not write about any significant others, or potential ones, because of how ephemeral this all could get. The kind that would never know I learnt that word watching Teen Wolf, or even that I like that show. The kind that I couldn’t imagine getting all old and wrinkly beside, yet I still get pulled in… The kind that makes me think I’m waaay in over my head, the kind that makes me know I’m screwed.
I think I’ll leave it off here, lest I add things I will regret, because the thought of having a crush figured out from a blog post, by the person himself, mortifies me to no end. Lol… This life. iOut 😀