My Mumbling Thoughts

"Dude, men are total shit." I'm sitting at the bar talking to my best mate, Lauren. It's a regular discussion between us. Actually, it's our main discussion that we always talk about.

"They are indeed. You do realize that we only say that when they've treated us like shit, don't you? When they're good to us then men are gods." She lights a fag, passes it over to me and then lights one for herself.

"Fuck that. Men are shit today, yesterday and I'm sure will be tomorrow. Nothing ever changes. They're all the goddamned same as well. Talk, talk, talk their bullshit and no fucking action. I never get any goddamned action. I want action. I need action. I'm craving some motherfucking action!" I take a long drag off my cigarette and drink from my bitch drink.

"Easy there, just calm down. We get action sometimes."

"Correction. You get action. I get lead on and then dropped the moment all of the interesting shit begins."

"Ha! Me get any action? Sure, I'll pull a guy here or there, but I haven't got any action."

"Well you could if you wanted."

"Cheer up, Sammi Jo. You can get action as well."

"Fuck off. You're just patronizing me now."

"Okay, so you're not getting any action from the guy that you want to be getting the action from. We all know that you're obsessed with Sam."

"I'm not obsessed with him. Occasionally I'll black out and have a psycho bitch moment, but I'm not obsessed. Partially interested in, sure. Maybe slightly intrigued by him. But not obsessed. Not in the slightest. And don't say his name all normal like that, like he's a good person. Say what he is, which is Satan's apprentice. God, I can't even believe that I share the same fucking name as him. It sounds all wrong."

"You're overreacting. Do I need to say it? Do you need to hear the words to bring you back down to earth?"

"Go on then. I'm sure I sound like it."

"Bunny boiler."

"Thank you."

"Feel better now?"

I take a deep breath.

"A little bit, yeah."

"Good. Now finish your drink so we can go back up to the bar and get a shot. It sounds like you need an apple sour."

"More like five."

**

I have turned into That Girl. The one that I hate and makes me feel disgusting. The one that wants to tear her flesh from her skin until she has reached her internal organs and yank them out with her bare hands. The one who would give anything to have a partial lobotomy if only she could forget all about the boy that turns her into That Girl. The worrying one. The one who actually cares about what he thinks and what he says to all of his closest mates when she's not around. The one that misses him. The one that over thinks everything he says and everything he does. The one who she wishes was around. The one who she wishes would disappear. The one that makes her stomach flip if she randomly runs into him outside. The one that she daydreams about and replays all of those nights back when things weren't complicated and confusing. The one she hates with every fiber of her being.

Yeah, that girl.

**

"You know that one old school episode of Friends when Rachel goes out with that dude on a blind date? And it's back when Ross is dating that Julie chick? Well, I think he was dating with her. Anyway, Rachel gets pissed and is talking only about Ross, Julie and their cat and how she wishes she doesn't care anymore. Then her date, that bald dude who is totally not in Rachel's league, says that when he divorced from his wife he needed to get closure, and Rachel thinks that that's a brilliant idea. 'Closure! That's what I need. I need closure.' Then she goes on to leave that dreadful message on Ross' machine and he's just like, 'you're over me? When were you ever under me?' That's me and Sam. That's what we are. Dysfunctional Ross and Rachel. Only we're not Ross and Rachel at all. We're more like Issy and Karev on Grey's Anatomy. That's who we're like."

"Baby, seriously, you need to get a grip. And perhaps another drink. You have to stop torturing yourself over him."

"I don't torture myself. I just have questions. Questions that he won't answer. That I've asked and he won't give an answer to. Why can't he just give me one goddamned straight answer?! That's all I need and I'll be fine. And closure of course."

"Well I guess you can try asking him again. Don't look now but he just walked in the bar."

I turn around anyway. I swivel myself halfway in my chair and see him. Again. The bastard.

I turn back around to face Lauren.

"I don't see how he can just walk in here like everything's okay. Like I'm fine. Like everything is just perfectly normal." I light another fag just as I put my last one out.

"Maybe you don't need another drink. Just chill out, baby, you'll be fine. Besides, you have to remember that he's a man and they don't know when anything's wrong. Honestly, have you even told him that you're upset?"

"Well...no. But I don't want him to know that I'm upset. Like I care. Because I don't. I just wish that he wouldn't treat me like a fucking potted plant all the time. I don't get how we can be so good and then two seconds later be so shit."

"That's blokes for you."

"I hate blokes. Especially cocky cokneys from the east. Twats."

**

Despite all my better judgement, I end up back at Bede house, laying in his bed while he walks around his room to do some tidying up. I find it strange how he likes things to be in their proper place. Most guys aren't like that. Why does he even care? Maybe he's OCD like me. That'd be cool.

The thoughts never stop. They continue right on and sometimes I wonder if all of my thoughts are being played across my face for everyone to read or if I'm just so blatanly obvious about what I'm thinking.

We kiss for a moment and he pulls back.

"I bet my breath smells don't it? I just had some crisps."

"I know. I shared them with you. So my breath must smell as well."

"Nah, I can't really tell. I'm going to brush my teeth anyway."

"Really? You're going to smell all minty fresh and I'm still going to smell like grotty crisps?"

"You can brush your teeth as well if you want. I've got a spare toothbrush."

He pulls a brand new toothbrush out from under his cupboard and hands it to me.

In my head the words are going into overdrive.

Normally when a guy gives you a toothbrush, one to keep at his place, he likes you. Really likes you. I find it cute and sweet and...cute again. And he just handed it to me like it was nothing, no big deal at all. Does he have more in his cupboard? How many other girls has he given a toothbrush to? Did they share chips as well? Shut up, shut up, shut up!

I'm laying back on his bed after I've brushed my teeth and notice the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. I can't believe I had never noticed them before. I was probably too pissed to notice them.

"Did you put those glow-in-the-dark stars up on your ceiling?"

"Nah, they were up there when I got here. But I've got some back in my room in East London. I've got the planets as well."

"Aw, how precious."

"Do you want to see them?"

"Well, duh."

I smile as he turns the lights off. The plastic little stars begin to glow and I scoot over so he can get in the bed and under the covers.

"Aw, I love these glow-in-the-dark stars. They're the best. I'll have to get some for my room."

"You really should."

And underneath the stars, we have a cheesy moment that I'll cling onto until I get my motherfucking closure.