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Bonfire

Aug 19, 2012 - 0 comments

Sadly i went to bed at 4a.m. and woke up at 1p.m. i got ready to go over to my boyfriends at 2p.m. because my mom and little brother were leaving for a pool party.
I watched my boyfriend play his video game for a few hours, oddly enough it didnt bug me that he wanted to play it. He included me alot so i was satisfied, especially when he paused it a few times to give me a kiss and talk. We ended up deciding to go to a bonfire that we were invited to, it started at 8 so he hopped in the shower and got out so i could blow dry his hair (yes i do his hair, but thats because he has medium hair and its super duper curly and he hates the curls)
We got to the friend's house and guess who i see!
The girl who almost ruined my relationship was sitting in a chair, my presence obviously made her uncomfortable. I dont know why, but i think she might be afraid of me..just because when the "incident" happened i didnt go after her like a normal girl...infact i didnt say a word to her which proves silence can be a weapon (dont know what your enemy is capable of if they dont show how they are feeling).
I avoided her at all costs, i kept stealing glances at her to make sure she didnt eye my boyfriend. She didnt which made me ease up.
My boyfriend cuddled with me and joked around alot when the other people showed up. I got to talk to the guys (my old friends and his old friends) and everything went well. Infact i even got comfortable with my "enemy" and even talked a little to her. Of course all things come to an end when 11:30 rolled around. My boyfriend and i started walking home, then WOOSH! Our friends sped by us in the car and stopped and pretty much kidnapped us haha.
We drove around looking for some of the people who were suppose to come with us, the driver did the whole "drunk" driving thing, pretending to be drunk. I slammed into my boyfriend and my so called enemy. We were all laughing then me and my boo got dropped off. He walked me home and we talked about everything.
It was a good night.

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