I can’t stop reading this Sylvia Plath poem, Mad Girl’s Love Song.
I’ve had a crush on Liam for 754 days. Yeah, we’re friends and stuff, but today something happened and it was scary and exciting and really I just don’t know what to think about it at all.
I was over at his house and his parents were out running errands. As usual we did some homework (but I hid my Latin so he couldn’t see how confused I get declining the nouns — why the hell does it have to be so hard?) together and before I could finish putting my books into my backpack, he was ON me. Tickling me, pinning me down while I squirmed and squealed. It was fun, but of course the entire time I just wanted to scream, “WHY DON’T YOU JUST KISS ME? HOW COME WE’VE NEVER KISSED?”
He got up suddenly and locked the door to his room. I swallowed hard, hoping this meant something different.
He came back over to me, playfully shoved me back onto the worn brown carpet. His hands inside my shirt, running up and down my back, underneath my bra strap. His breath coming harder and faster as the “wrestling” resumed. Could he tell my body felt like it was on fire? The warmth between my legs spread as he began rubbing up against me.
“Let’s make love, quick!” he hissed.
I think I laughed out loud only because it was so ridiculous. Diary, you know we’ve never even French kissed before. We’re 15. And I was just realizing what all the girls at school were giggling about when they whispered about “hard-ons.”
My shirt slid up. His mouth moved down to kiss my tummy.
“Shit!” I yelped.
He looked right into my eyes for a second and then I looked away because I was embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do. But for sure I didn’t want to make the first official mouth move and get rejected. I yanked my shirt down but Liam stopped me.
Then he grabbed my wrists, pinned them down with his large hands so I couldn’t move. I saw stubble on his upper lip and remembered a can of shaving cream sitting on his bathroom counter. I was on fire, aching for something I couldn’t even name.
I didn’t know what to do, Diary. I felt stupid and partly scared because I really was stuck. His little sister must’ve heard us because she started banging on the door asking what we were doing.
I went home feeling ashamed. And it only got worse after Emma called me. Liam asked her out on a date over the weekend. She knows I have a crush on him. He must know I have a crush on him. So why did he do all those things? Am I just a blow-up doll to practice with, his toy?
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me, moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head) ~Sylvia Plath
I’ve decided I’m not good enough for him, for this to be real. I’ve made it up inside my head that a part of him likes me back because he does these things with me a lot.
The proofs we have to do in Geometry class that I have so much trouble with? Are just like Liam in a way. I fail at them both. My stupid fucking protractor and Liam’s game prove I’m just dumb and inept and gullible.