Skip to main content

Cruel Brunette

I rubbed my feet over eachother, only socks on. She'd instructed me to remove my shoes at the door. She smiled sweetly at me from across the table, stretching across to pick up my plate, giving me an unintentional view.
I tried to avoid it, and my eyes quickly darted to her excessively organised kitchen, each unit colour coded for clarity.
She finished her wine and hiccupped, giggled and then winked at me.
My hopes were wounded though, as she chirpily said
"Dinner is over now, I suppose."
I looked at her, confused. Even though nothing had ever been declared, I was pretty sure we were an official item. It looked that way to outsiders, but I feel as if she's playing a game.
But I want her.
"You didn't drink anything, so you can drive yourself home, right?" she innocently smiled.
Taken aback, I blurted
"Uh no, I can't... Uhm.. I'm afraid of driving... In the dark.. Everything looks the same, you know? Uh.. so yeah.." I awkwardly rambled, knowing I'd never get away with such a ridiculous excuse.
"Fair enough. Sure, I'll call you a taxi and you won't have to drive."
"I didn't bring my wallet" I said hopefully.
"Oh don't worry, I'll pay" she grinned, touching my arm.
I cursed in my head. I really thought I'd be able to stay over the night. I was certain of it.
She started to push me gently, but firmly, out of the kitchen, shutting the door loudly behind her, and I felt all my hopes quickly seeping away, puddling onto the floor.
"Wait.. But.. I was thinking..!"
I stuttered a speech of weak protests, but she refused to look at me, suddenly becoming totally disinterested in me.
"I thought we were finally spend the night together, what's going on?" I blurted.
She stared at me in disgust, making me feel rather small.
"A woman should keep her discretion" she snapped, her lips becoming tight.
Sad songs and waltzes were useless to me now, I was too disappointed and far too angry with her.
"Were you just leading me on?"
I stood my ground before she thrusted me out of the front door.
"We were just having dinner, that doesn't automatically entitle you to sex."
"Entitle me? What are you, a prize to be won? Do you think you'd be doing me a favour by sleeping with me?"
She didn't answer, but proceeded to shove me out the door.
I felt robbed. I thought we were finally spend some cliché couple time together. The amazing night, the awkward morning, but what would've been yesterdays clothes are useless to me now.
She threw my vans out and slammed the door without a mere goodbye.
I clenched my fists in anger, noticing her neighbour watching me, and I instantly felt disgraced.
I looked down, jaw clenched and sat on her step. I fumbled with my shoe laces. I hadn't untied them correctly, my eagerness at the beginning of the evening causing me to kick off my shoes.
I stood up, and heard the clinking of my car keys. I reached into my pocket to take them out, and stared at it.
A small smile crept on my lips.
In a moment I'll not call madness just yet, I engraved on her letterbox, 'Cruel Brunette'.

This short piece was inspired by the song "Cruel Brunette" by The Strypes. Of course, all is legally theirs, I just felt inspired to write this. If interested, here's the link to the song;
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PgXuEcM21U
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Medication

I have always been the one who advocates for medication for mental health and its usefullness, but what happens when your medication doesn't work for you anymore? That is what had been happening to me recently (hence the complete lack of a schedule on this blog). I had been dealing with it until a point, until depression hit me hard, and for more than a couple of days this time. I had avoided going to the doctor because I didn't want to go back to switching between medications all the time, incase they made everything worse. When I was eventually forced to go, only my contraceptive pill was changed, at first. The doctor told me that she never would take me off my medcation, and for that, I was relieved. So many people ask when I'm coming off it, or are surprised when I'm still on it. People don't seem to realise that disorders and illnesses don't just go away (I wish they did, though). As I changed contraceptive pill, the low feeling of depression went away, b...
Post a Comment
Read more

#WeStandWithZoe

Media, you've done it again. An article was released about a seemingly scandalous photo from the well known Youtuber, Zoe Sugg, also known as Zoella. Zoe really needs no introduction. With a mass following around the world, she has a whopping 10 million YouTube subscribers (and counting), a successful blog, a gorgeous beauty range, two best selling books, has worked with charities and has brought awareness to anxiety disorders. Of course, this level of success means that Zoe is in the limelight. Like anyone who is popular in a social career, she's under the scrutiny of the media. Seen below is a photo Zoe uploaded on her snapchat, and, oh gasp, a tiny peek of underwear. Of course, this article is released, seemingly trying to shame Zoe for being 'revealing'. Don't get me wrong, if Zoe wanted to put herself naked on the internet, I wouldn't care. But, she is obviously trying to be shamed, and just because she's a woman. With tabloid story after tabloid...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cycle Against Suicide

An organisation set up by Jim Breen, where thousands of people cycle through Ireland every year, to break the cycle of suicide. Cleverly placed pun. Today, the lovely Mr Breen came to my school and talked to all seven hundred plus of us. In the back, wearing a disgustingly bright orange shirt in support (and feeling decidedly Dutch), I was struggling not to cry. Not that he was being morbid. He didn't delve into details of his depression, or any gruesome details of suicide. He spoke in such a way that was amazing. He spoke to us in a way that reached all levels of understanding in relation to mental health. He was able to educate those who have never experienced a mental monster, without boring them, or frightening them off the topic. Though, even with such sensitivity, he was able to touch those who had suffered mental illness. It was like a little nod to us. We knew we were understood, that he understood. For me, that is always extremely emotional. For someone to understa...
Post a Comment
Read more