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Admiring her work was something of a habit, maybe even pastime, of mine. I found her work to be intoxicating for it was like I was looking into her soul. Through her art, I was always able to tell what was going on in her head. I might have been the only one who saw her art that way but I didn't really care. My friends knew about this and often poked fun at how I could more easily get to know her by her work rather then actually going up to talk to her.
During my sophomore year, and her junior one, we had the same gym class and often worked in the same group. It was there that I actually met her for who she was and I enjoyed every minute of it. She became a vocal point of my dreams, even visiting me in my day dreams. I wanted so badly to tell her how I felt but I never found the courage and if I did then she was no where in site. It came to the point where I was going to just give up, like it wasn't suppose to be.
Now she's about to graduate and I'm getting ready to take my junior year exams. The school year is winding down and I know that if I don't say something to her in person then I'm never going to get another chance. Part of me just wants to give up completely and let her get on with her life and leave me behind. The other part though still wants to hold her in my arms and tell her everything that I've kept built up for all these years. It was easy to say that it was a constant war between the two.
So one day, when I should have been brushing up for my English exam, I sat on the computer writing and stalking my friends on Facebook. Okay so it wasn't really stalking but I happened to be reading an ongoing fight that was happening at the time. This was yet another past time of mine when in between my own writing and Robyn's art work. I remember having writers block and since my friend told me about the fight, I thought that would help me write the scene I was working on at the time. That was when I got the message.
Robyn: Hey, can I ask you something?
My heart was at the same time pounding against my rib cage and not moving at all. My breath hitched and my muscles tensed to a point where I thought they were going to rip apart. She wanted to talk to me, to ask me something. That one little sentence caused me to recall every stupid thing that I've ever said to or about this woman. I bit my lip to the point where I thought I was going to start bleeding. For a long time I sat there, contemplating how to answer.
Me: You already are haha
Robyn: Don't get sarcastic with me, kiddo lol.
Me: Sorry, so what did you want to ask me about.
I waited for a long time after that one, it seemed that she was writing something quiet extensive. The anticipation was killing me little by little. All I wanted was to know what she wanted and this was just making me jump to conclusions. She seemed happy enough so it couldn't have been bad news. It's not like she already knew about my feelings and was going to call me out on it. Unless that's exactly what this was. What if she knew? I mean its not like I was always so non-obvious about it; I all but drooled over the woman.
Robyn: Okay, so I have to help my friend with the school literary magazine. We're basically designing the entire thing and we had a theme in mind but the only problem is that we need a story to go with it. We have that in mind as well but neither of us are very good writers at all. I've read some of your work and I know that you're better with fantasy stuff, which is the portion that we need help with. Could you write the story out for us. You can add whatever you want to it as long as you stick with what's centered around our paintings.
Me: I don't even know how to respond.....You think that I'm a good enough writer to be the base of the literary magazine?
Robyn: Well, duh you're pretty amazing.
My jaw unhinged and hit my keyboard, luckily not hitting any keys. She thought I was that good of a writer? Wait, when did she ever read any of my stories? Nobody, not even my closest friends, read my stories. How did she?
Me: Wait, how did you know that I was good at writing fantasy stuff?
When she didn't respond for some time, I instantly thought that I said something wrong. I thought that I had gotten her bad by accusing her of something like a crime. My stomach twisted into so many knots that I was sure that I was going to have an ulcer by the end of this conversation. That is, if there was even going to be a finish to this little chat. I gulped audibly and breathed deeply as I attempted to calm my rigid nerves. That's about when the message popped up.
Robyn: So......my best friend works with a friend of yours in the office at their free periods. While I was sitting in there, talking to my friend about having a problem writing an essay, your friend referred me to you.
I knew then they you were a good writer but I didn't know if you'd be able to help me. That's actually one of the reasons that I want your help now, I want you to help me write better essays cause that's all college is.
When I wanted to see some of your work, your friend gave me something that you emailed her for review. I actually couldn't believe that you could write that way and so whenever she would get something from you, she would pass it along to me. I can't get enough of your style, Ash.
All this time that I thought I was being a creep by watching and judging Robyn from her works of art, she was doing the same to me. Neither of us had any idea what the other was doing and yet we both had the same notion in mind. We both wanted to see what was hiding behind all the walls that the other had built up. Both of us were completely intoxicated by one another's works. Now here she was, asking if we could combine our artistic abilities and work together to make one piece.
Robyn: I know that you may think that I'm some sort of creep but I know how protective you are of your work and I knew that no matter how many times you promised you'd let me read it, you wouldn't.
That stung a little.
Me: Well I'm more afraid of people seeing what I normally write about.
Robyn: So what you sent to Luna wasn't your normal subject manor was it? It was just fan fictions to keep you busy.
How did she know?
Me: Pretty much....
Robyn: Why don't you send me something that you really wrote? I of all people am not going to judge you on what you write.
So what do you write about anyway? Is it action, romance, comedy.
Me: A little bit of everything.
Robyn: So then you must write about something that most other people wouldn't find appealing or would even laugh at or criticize you for, am I right?
Again, she hit the nail on the head.
Me: Basically....
Robyn: Listen, I know that you might not want to talk to me about it now and I totally get that but I do want you to know that I'm here for you. I know that we haven't really spoken in a while but I want that to change now. After reading those stories, I can't help but feel that I know you in a way that nobody else does. I may not know everything but I feel that I know more.
Me: I feel the same way.
It was then that I proceeded to tell her about how for years now I was a huge fan of her art works. With every new one that she posted online or that our art teacher (she in studio art and I in art history) gloated about, I felt that I knew a bit more about her. I told her that her art work inspired me to write stories that reflected the piece. Some of them where even the ones that I turned into fan fictions which I gave to Luna and that Robyn herself eventually read.
Robyn: I'm glad that we choose to do this to each other. I fear that anybody else would have been completely freaked out about this sort of thing.
Me: Yeah, that's how I thought you were going to react if I ever told you.
Robyn: Same here! We are certainly two peas in a pod aren't we?
Me: We sure are.
Tell her, tell her now. One portion of my brain yelled. The other side quickly jumped up to rebuke itself, saying that it just wasn't the right move. Everything was going so well that by telling her, things could either become really good or go into the opposite direction and become really bad. Was that a chance that I was willing to take or do I just want to let it slip through my fingers? Now it was time to make a decision and stick with it.
Robyn: Alright, so can you stay after school tomorrow so that we can work on it?
Me: Yeah sure that doesn't sound like a problem.
It was a good thing that my father was going to be home to pick up my little brother or else I would have been thoroughly screwed.
Robyn: I'll talk to you then. Bye.
Me: See ya later.
I couldn't have been happier if I was in Disney World. Finally, I got to work with the very artist who stole my heart. Maybe that would be the perfect time to tell her, or yet another to keep myself in the closet. I wonder how this is going to play out.....
- by blaze_MiKO |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 06/10/2013 |
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- Title: Compatible Artists?
- Artist: blaze_MiKO
- Description: Not much I can say about this other then the fact that this is the product of my daydreams. It's from one of those moments when you're suppose to be listening to someone but instead you drift off into your own little world of what could be. Hope you like it and please ignore any errors, I'm not the best with grammar or spelling.
- Date: 06/10/2013
- Tags: artists lgbt crushes
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