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“Where have you been?! You’ve been with her, haven’t you?!” My blonde girlfriend, Lucilia, or Lily, as she prefers, cries at me. I don’t know what to say. My mind was blank.
Okay, so I cheated on my steady girlfriend. I was dating someone else. Her name was Angelina, nice, smooth, German woman. Black hair, blue eyes. Tan skin, since she’s never lived in Germany, but rather, California her whole life.
It wasn’t that I loved Angelina more. Or Lucilia less. In fact, I have no idea where it all started. I was pretty sure I had met Angelina at my new job, Polinksky’s Writes, a local publishing and writing business. It hires people to publish other people’s work into books, or it hires writers to write them. Angelina was the Big Boss’s, Mr. Polinksky himself, secretary. She was very professional, smart, organized...
Gorgeous. I had completely forgotten about Lily when I saw her. I had worked there as a writer. I was good at it. I have published nothing, but I am working on this one book, A Train’s Message. It’s about this girl who’s family dies by getting caught in a fire. She commits suicide by getting hit by a train.
People like that kind of stuff. Emotional, has a message which is carried out by a death or an epiphany. They buy that stuff. You get five stars or two thumbs waaay up for that stuff.
Well, reality isn’t like that. You don’t just have people who all miraculously die. No, foul play, in reality, it either a lot more or a lot less common that how they depict it in book or TV shows. They don’t care about meaning or how to change other people’s opinion unless that opinion got them a dollar more in their pockets. My epiphany in life was that money ruled all. Those people who make those emotional little discoveries on the TV or in books or magazines don’t mean it. They just want a truck load of money in their name.
So that being said, what do I say to Lily?
Lily, who has firm beliefs in opinions and emotional trauma and that how you’re brought up firmly controls your every actions. Lily, who loved me because she thought I was pretending to be cruel towards her beliefs because I had been brought up badly.
Lily, whose blonde hair brought light to my life. Whose blue eyes made me feel so peaceful, so confusingly different from that ‘happy’ you feel when getting drunk.
She’s so opposite of me. How could she believe what she does? It’s not right, no, humans don’t....
How could I cheat on her? She so beautiful, so kind-
“Answer me!” she shouted, her voice shattered like a beer bottle. Tears flooded her cheeks. Red blushed her face. Her blonde hair was messy, making her sadness even more contagious.
“Well nothing! You decided to date someone else because” she broke again from her ‘tough routine she tries to display. Her beliefs make her weak. Breakable.
“Because I bore you.. I’m not pretty enough, I’m too thoughtful, I think too much...” she cried and kept going on. Her list of things made me cry with her. They weren’t true. She was the most beautiful, most loving, caring person ever. They way one of her eyes- the left one- was slightly bigger than the other. The way they lit up when I gave her a chance. The way her pale cheeks go red when she is embarrassed of my compliments. The thoughtful blue of her eyes when she’s deep in thought....
“I-I love you more than her” I said, surprised at the truth of it. I kept spilling, I had never let my emotions outpour like this, but I continued.
“She only had looks, empty gorgeousness, FAKE, but you, you Lily, are like a daisy, a petal of true emotions I have never and never would feel without you. The thoughtfulness that inspires me to write, to hug you, to wish you and I were together forever.”
She stopped crying and looked at me like I’ve never seen before.
“You.. actually... Think that?”
she whispered. I nodded. I hugged her.
“Lets go somewhere tonight. A restraunt, an ice cream parlor, anywhere, even the park.”
That ended up being the best night of my life.