You Belong With Me Songfic

From a distance, I watched him plead with his girlfriend, trying to get her to forgive him for the perverted line he had said. She punches his shoulder and he pretends to look wounded with a hurt look on his face. She rails at him for a few more minutes and makes him promise not to do that again. He gives her a half-sincere apology, that she and I know isn’t an actual promise because he’ll do it again anyway, but she accepts it. They kiss, I look away, and when I look back, they’re hugging. He catches my eye and winks at me. I roll my eyes which causes him to give me a toothy, mischievous grin.

“You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset
She’s going off about something that you said
She doesn’t get your humor like I do.”

I’ve got my Ipod out with the headphones in and I’m singing to myself. She comes up to me and asks me what I’m listening to ‘cause she’s wants to see what’s so good. I show her the screen, the picture of Taylor Swift staring up at us, and she immediately loses interest, I can see it in her face. She recommends Wicked, the musical, and changes the subject to him. Apparently, she doesn’t understand him, doesn’t understand why he is how he is, and doesn’t understand why he does certain things. She’s coming to me because I’ve known him longer than she has. My answer is vague. I can’t let his secrets go. It’s not my place to tell anyway and I tell her so.

“I’m in the room, it’s a typical Tuesday night
I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like
And she’ll never know your story like I do.”

She sniffs and looks at me like I’m not worth her time. Then she walks away, swinging her long, silky, brown hair, and beautifully shaped hips. I watch her go, glad to see her leave. But I observe her outfit with a photographer’s eye, admiring her high, fur brown boots complimenting her jean mini-skirt and spandex, and the green shirt matched well with her brilliant eyes. I shake off my envy for I know that because she’s a model, she’s always got the right clothes and a haughty attitude to match. I have no desire to be like that.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts
She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers.”

Later that night, I’m lying on my bed staring at my blank, white ceiling, comparing and contrasting and dreaming. She’s everything I’m not, beautiful, chic, and popular, and can do everything I can’t, act, model, and sing. Secretly I’m wishing that he’d break up with her and go out with me. She’s so shallow even though she does good job acting like she cares. But she doesn’t realize that he’s not like that. He feels emotions deeper than a lot of other people and takes things to heart even though he pretends like it doesn’t matter most of the time.

”Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and fine
That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.”

In my mind, I’m plotting out my argument, picking and choosing words that I know will get to him. I’m trying to figure out the best way to try to get him to see that I’m a better choice than she is. But in my heart I know I’ll never flat out tell you. I don’t have enough guts to do it. We’ve been so close for years and we’ve got a very peculiar bond. It’s so strong; it’s a weakness in our systems. That’s why I love him, that’s why I’d do anything for him, that’s why whenever it involves him, I have to be there. All I do can do is keep on dreaming.

“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along, so why can’t you see?
You belong with me, you belong with me.”

Now the situation’s different. It’s changed a lot and he’s been affected by all of the mess she’s caused. We’ve become a little closer and have randomly run into each other in the hallway. Instantly we start walking together, just talking about anything, trying to avoid the topic of her. We spend time in the courtyard, sitting in the bench, falling back on our crazy, perverted talking, laughing as we go along. And it feel so right.

“Walking down the streets with you in your worn-out jeans
I can’t help thinking this is how it’s out to be
Laughing on the park bench thinking to myself
Hey, isn’t this easy?”

I remember when I use to see his smile everyday and every time it struck a chord within my heart. That’s a huge reason why I fell as hard as I did. His smile always lit up my day, no matter how dark it had been. It never failed to cheer me up. He’s one of the few people who can bring me out of my worst. Everything’s different now and he doesn’t smile anymore. The look on his face is always dark and brooding.

Everyday, he walks around pretending like he’s fine. He’s not as his ex at acting, but it’s good enough for others, but not for me. I know he’s lying through his teeth. The whole behind this lost smile is his lying, heart-breaking, shallow, abusing ex-girlfriend. Every time I think about it, my blood boils and it makes me wonder.

“And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town
I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down.
You say you’re fine, I know you better than that
Hey what you doing with a girl like that?”

When I see her in the hallway, she’s all still very happy. She’s wearing the glow of fake content-ness and nothing how really changed for her. Her friends still love and support her. Her wardrobe is still generous and her heels are even better than before. She’s flirting with more and more guys just to drive him crazy. As I catch her laughter and her endless chatter about the agency helping her with her modeling, something within me wants to turn around and confront her. It takes all of my will to not beat her to pulp for destroying him and tearing down his confidence in life. I pass her by and plaster a forced smile, flicking her off in my mind.

“She wears high heels, I were sneakers
She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers”

He finds me during lunch and we’re back in the courtyard. He’s sharing another story, one that’s a torture to his soul. He loves her too much and blindly want her back badly. I hold back my criticism and the cruel remark about how she’s so over him and that she doesn’t want him back. But I sympathize with him and try consoling him with words sure though I doing to just hold him, kiss his hurts away, and shield him from the world. He doesn’t, he won’t see the wish in my heart. He’s blinded by the so-called love in his heart and he can’t see that she’s slowly killing him.

“Dreaming about the day when you’ll wake up and find
That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.”

I even showed him I understood his fights in his mind and he was amazed and shocked by the perception I had. Hope began to blossom inside me, but I was disappointed over and over again. I was frustrated with his narrow-mindedness. She had gained control over his whole mind and he had handicapped himself, placing blinds over his eyes so all he could see was himself and whatever he wanted to see. And me being able to understand wasn’t what he wanted to see. He wanted to be a martyr for love or some nonsense like that. All I could do was continue to ask over and over again.

“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can’t you see?
You belong with me”

I thought I made it obvious enough. I stayed online just in case he needed me even though I pretended that I was there just to be occupied by something. Deep down, all I did was crave a little piece of him. I waited and watched for him when I could. If I got a small opportunity to be with him, I took it and savored it. But no matter what I did, he still was ignorant to my feelings, ignorant of everything except himself. I didn’t understand how he couldn’t see.

“Standing by or waiting at your back door
All this time, how could you not know that?
You belong with me, you belong with me”

He would call me late at night, just to talk out the craziness within himself. There was no one else he could go to. I think somehow in his subconscious, he knew I’d understand, knew that I’d listen, and knew I wouldn’t tear him down. I’m his confidante- his own personal therapist. When he was down in the dumps, ready to give up, ready to let himself go, he’d come to me and pour out his soul, so I could ease his suffering a little bit.

“Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night
I’m the one who makes you laugh when you’re about to cry”

When it comes to him, it’s like I’ve got a sixth sense that knows his feelings. I always know when something’s up. He tells me, he’s okay then all I have to do is give him a look and he’ll spill the story, just like that. I’m usually right when it comes to him. He tells me what he thinks his future looks like and it’s always grim. He say’s he so lost and I know it doesn’t have to be that way. It all depends on him because I’ve done all I can already. I’m just waiting now.

“I know your favorite songs and you’ll tell me all your dreams
I think I know where you belong, I think I know it’s with me”

It just bothers me so much. I ask myself the question over and over.

“Can’t you see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along, so why can’t you see?
You belong with me”

I’m waiting for the day he realizes, the day he wakes up. It’s been along time so I’m hoping it’ll come soon.

“Standing by or waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that
You belong with me, you belong with me”

Has it ever occurred to him at all? I don’t know, but I hope so.

“Have you ever thought that just maybe,
You belong with me, you belong with me…”