Dancing on the edge Hurt before Risk it all Wanting to trust Scared to fall Too good to be true Or take it at face value? Flip the coin Call it in the air 50/50 chance Heads or tails He loves me, he loves me not So much riding on a quarter......
The coin lands with a soft thud on the carpet. Heads. Damn, I think to myself. Heads means he'll break my heart. That was what heads meant, right? I can't even remember now... The sound of footsteps brings me back to reality. Partially anyway. That damn quarter is still on the carpet where it landed. I'm sure George Washington is giving me the evil eye. Old, wooden-toothed jerk. He set me up. I look up just as you walk into the room but sneak one more glance at George Washington/the devil. Following my gaze you spot the quarter and bend down to retrieve it. You come back up holding the quarter gingerly between your thumb and forefinger, make a big production of inspecting it, all the while grinning. "I believe this is my way out right here, Sweetheart. You did say heads meant I was going to um, 'rip your heart out', right?" "No! That thing fell out of my pocket!" How in the hell did he know that's what I had been thinking?! "Riiiight. I was standing in the doorway almost the entire time, you goof. You talk to yourself." Oops. Better fix that broken inner monologue. But before I could explain myself further, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. His breath ruffled my hair, I could feel his heartbeat. My neurotic worries slipped away. I felt safe. "My sweet, silly girl. I can guarantee the only thing I'll ever be doing with your heart is protecting it with my life. Keep writing your poems, don't ever change but please don't doubt how much I care for you." Too bad this is just one elaborate fantasy. Sigh. |