And I Know It Was Me Who Called It Over But I Still Wish You Fought Me Till Your Dying Day
I knew it was over two weeks ago, and I think you knew it too. We sat there in your car among bike riders and couples out for a stroll. Me crying and you trying to make me feel ok about it. I told you I didn't want to see you anymore. And I held strong for about 10 minutes, then you asked if you should drop me off or if I wanted to hang out. Of course I wanted to hang out. So we did. I spent a lot of that night taking everything I could in. Making sure I would remember. The way you smelled, the sound of you breathing deeply next to me, the weight of your cat on my legs, the way, if I moved, you would move yourself to be closer to me, the feel of your hand in mine, The way you would give me little half asleep kisses when I rolled over next to you or put my head on your chest. That night turned into two more weeks of doing what we were. Me feeling like shit every time I knew you were with her instead of me. But being so happy when we spent time together. Little things eating away at me. Even when we were together. You kissed me differently once, and I knew it was because she kissed you that way. Well I guess I didn't know but I assumed. I am glad we had those last two weeks sometimes, but others I wish we had just parted ways that night. Cause knowing you were In Vermont with her all weekend ruined mine. And I really hated that.
When we talked last night and I told you how I was feeling, like 2nd best and I didn't like it, you told me that if I was feeling that way it was basically my fault because you always hung out with whoever called you and since it was always you who made the plans, always you who went out of your way to call me, It was my own fault that you had hung out with her more in the last week. That hurt, and it made me see how little you understand me. I didn't call you because I was afraid to come off as needy. The girl who needs your attention, your time. I was always taught that that was what men hated so why would I want to seem that way to you?
When it was finally decided that it was over, we weren't going to see each other anymore, you were so placid about it. So, 'yeah ok if that's what you feel like you need to do'. That almost pissed me off more than the rest of it. It really didn't make me feel any less like 2nd choice. It made me feel like it didn't even matter if you lost me. No big whoop. It would have been nice to hear you say that you didn't want things to end, that you still wanted to see me, and just me, that you would do whatever you had to not to lose me. So what if these things were just what I wanted you to say fully knowing you wouldn't that doesn't mean it was any easier not to hear them. Then I reminded myself, why would you be upset about not seeing me anymore. You still have her to take up your time, you still have a date when you want one, still have someone to sleep next to, someone to steal the covers from, someone to trade little back rubs with, someone to call at the end of the day, when work was enough to make you want to throw yourself into oncoming traffic. You still have someone. And I don't. That's all it comes down to in the end. And that, my friend, pisses me off more than anything else.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Look For The Girl With The Broken Smile, Ask Her If She Wants To Stay Awhile.
And She Will Be Loved.
There once was a girl whose hair glowed the color of a late summer sunset. All she ever wanted was to be loved and to give love. But she never quite got there. She came close once or twice but something always went wrong. A little slip and that was it. She was alone again. Naturally. When she was young she thought she loved him, the boy with the copper hair and eyes to match. And she did love him, as much as her 15 year old heart would allow. And this is where her pattern began. She broke it off, not because it was going south, or because she didn't like him. It was just the opposite. Things were great and she was happy. But that is precisely what scared her. Happiness. That sneaky two faced emotion. It starts out feeling so right. All good intentions with no ending in sight. But then it changes, morphs into something else. The pain and the emptiness of happiness gone away. That low tug way down in the pit of your stomach. That little voice in your head that tells you how stupid you were for letting it go. It's like a drug. And she became a junkie with him. Learned how to get her fix. A simple ride home. Sometimes that was enough.
It was years before she dated someone new. This boy younger and untrained in the bitterness that accompanies happiness. She was his first girlfriend. His first kiss. Hers were the first breasts he touched. Through her grey hoodie at first, then later with nothing between his hands and her skin. She knew this was not love. Not what she was looking for. But she was having fun. She was young, still able to let her 17 year old body do what it wanted. So they dated. Held hands in the hall. Stole kisses at her locker and behind the band room door. When that ended it wasn't like before, it was very friendly. They talked the next day. Even exchanged a hug or two. But she didn't ache for him the way she did her first. And she understood why. He was a filler someone to pass the time with not to fall in love with.
She kept looking. Her search brought her lips to many others. But in none of those did she find what she wanted. That feeling. Her breath being stolen and her heart speeding. Her hands never shook. Her knees never quivered. And by the time She kissed him she had all but given up. She had packed the ice so thick around her heart that she thought she could handle a no strings relationship. One that consisted of late night drives and early morning returns. That first kiss still lingers in her mind. She can still she them walking up to her car. The stars the only light on that dirt road. She slid her hand into his and her breath caught when his finger interlocked with hers. When they reached her car he leaned her against the door and dipped his head to meet her lips. She pulled away bringing his bottom lip back between her teeth. He kissed her like she had always wanted to be kissed. Rough. Hard. She sees now that they jumped the gun. They hopped into bed too soon for it to be anything else but that. So she was always on her toes. Never letting that feeling creep up on her. Never listening to that voice that said things like "maybe in time" or "he wouldn't kiss you like that unless" She knew deep down that this was not love either. Just time wasting. Waiting it out for something real to come along. But once again her pattern continued and this time a lie was what ended it. She told herself to tell him. Tell him that first night. But she couldn't. She had been telling it for so long that the truth seemed more like the lie than the lie did. So that was that. 7 months of bedding down. 7 months filled with late night invites. 7 months of slowly melting ice. Just to have it all wiped away by an email none the less. The type spelling out what she had known all along. Not love. Not even lust. Just killing time.
Happiness, she's always thought, is a sneaky little bastard of an emotion. She can feel it's eyes on her now. It hunts her in the night. When she's in his bed. In his arms. That's when she feels it's clutches are the closest. It has such a pleasant feeling now. That small swell in her chest. That heat that spreads through her, out of her. But then there is that voice, the one that tells her to wake up. Look at what is actually happening. It's Friday night and you're alone but he isn't. What's wrong with this picture. No this isn't love either. But it has the potential to be. Maybe someday. He makes her laugh. He's made her cry. She itches to be with him when it's been a day or two since she's seen him. But still she knows, sure as she knows what she's felt before, that he isn't ready. Isn't willing to be that one. The one who proves her idea of happiness is wrong. To let her know that it doesn't have to end in a bitter and painful way. And he may never be. So why does she stay. Why does she come when he calls. Why does she never make plans until he has told her his. Because of one reason. It's better to kill time with someone then to do it alone. Alone the time passes slowly. The minute hand ticks by, but it takes hours for it to travel more than five paces. Together hours pass in the blink of an eye. a whole day can be spent laying in bed just being with him. And she's not willing to give that up. Even though she knows his days are not hers alone.
Time is just as sneaky as happiness. It plays tricks the same way. Easing the pain and nurturing the seed of hope. Letting her think that maybe just maybe this one will be different. Only time will tell. But her sense of time has all but slipped away. It's been 20 years. 38 pairs of lips have met hers. 5 men know what she sounds like, what she looks like when she is in that place. But there has only ever been one close call to love, and that was young love. Innocent love. She is starting to believe that maybe there will be no other love for her. Yes she's young. But bitter. And aged beyond her short life. And so the pattern continues. She's just waiting now. There have been a few times, with the current time waster, when the end was in sight. But for some reason it always fades from view. Giving her just enough hope to see him one more time. Forget about the other girls for one more day. Hold out for love, maybe not from him but from someone. There's got to be that. That small glimmer of hope or else none of it is worth it. The high school boy friends. The late night drives to the one with the amazing green eyes. Not even the nights spent in the newest one's bed. Those nights may be the most feeble of all because they seem the most important. It is the freshest wounds that sting the most when the salt gets rubbed in them. Not the old scars. Although they serve their purpose as well. If she loses sight of that hope then she will give up for real and then all of it will be lost. All of it sent to a place too dark for her to see why she held on to them and that just can't happen.
And She Will Be Loved.
There once was a girl whose hair glowed the color of a late summer sunset. All she ever wanted was to be loved and to give love. But she never quite got there. She came close once or twice but something always went wrong. A little slip and that was it. She was alone again. Naturally. When she was young she thought she loved him, the boy with the copper hair and eyes to match. And she did love him, as much as her 15 year old heart would allow. And this is where her pattern began. She broke it off, not because it was going south, or because she didn't like him. It was just the opposite. Things were great and she was happy. But that is precisely what scared her. Happiness. That sneaky two faced emotion. It starts out feeling so right. All good intentions with no ending in sight. But then it changes, morphs into something else. The pain and the emptiness of happiness gone away. That low tug way down in the pit of your stomach. That little voice in your head that tells you how stupid you were for letting it go. It's like a drug. And she became a junkie with him. Learned how to get her fix. A simple ride home. Sometimes that was enough.
It was years before she dated someone new. This boy younger and untrained in the bitterness that accompanies happiness. She was his first girlfriend. His first kiss. Hers were the first breasts he touched. Through her grey hoodie at first, then later with nothing between his hands and her skin. She knew this was not love. Not what she was looking for. But she was having fun. She was young, still able to let her 17 year old body do what it wanted. So they dated. Held hands in the hall. Stole kisses at her locker and behind the band room door. When that ended it wasn't like before, it was very friendly. They talked the next day. Even exchanged a hug or two. But she didn't ache for him the way she did her first. And she understood why. He was a filler someone to pass the time with not to fall in love with.
She kept looking. Her search brought her lips to many others. But in none of those did she find what she wanted. That feeling. Her breath being stolen and her heart speeding. Her hands never shook. Her knees never quivered. And by the time She kissed him she had all but given up. She had packed the ice so thick around her heart that she thought she could handle a no strings relationship. One that consisted of late night drives and early morning returns. That first kiss still lingers in her mind. She can still she them walking up to her car. The stars the only light on that dirt road. She slid her hand into his and her breath caught when his finger interlocked with hers. When they reached her car he leaned her against the door and dipped his head to meet her lips. She pulled away bringing his bottom lip back between her teeth. He kissed her like she had always wanted to be kissed. Rough. Hard. She sees now that they jumped the gun. They hopped into bed too soon for it to be anything else but that. So she was always on her toes. Never letting that feeling creep up on her. Never listening to that voice that said things like "maybe in time" or "he wouldn't kiss you like that unless" She knew deep down that this was not love either. Just time wasting. Waiting it out for something real to come along. But once again her pattern continued and this time a lie was what ended it. She told herself to tell him. Tell him that first night. But she couldn't. She had been telling it for so long that the truth seemed more like the lie than the lie did. So that was that. 7 months of bedding down. 7 months filled with late night invites. 7 months of slowly melting ice. Just to have it all wiped away by an email none the less. The type spelling out what she had known all along. Not love. Not even lust. Just killing time.
Happiness, she's always thought, is a sneaky little bastard of an emotion. She can feel it's eyes on her now. It hunts her in the night. When she's in his bed. In his arms. That's when she feels it's clutches are the closest. It has such a pleasant feeling now. That small swell in her chest. That heat that spreads through her, out of her. But then there is that voice, the one that tells her to wake up. Look at what is actually happening. It's Friday night and you're alone but he isn't. What's wrong with this picture. No this isn't love either. But it has the potential to be. Maybe someday. He makes her laugh. He's made her cry. She itches to be with him when it's been a day or two since she's seen him. But still she knows, sure as she knows what she's felt before, that he isn't ready. Isn't willing to be that one. The one who proves her idea of happiness is wrong. To let her know that it doesn't have to end in a bitter and painful way. And he may never be. So why does she stay. Why does she come when he calls. Why does she never make plans until he has told her his. Because of one reason. It's better to kill time with someone then to do it alone. Alone the time passes slowly. The minute hand ticks by, but it takes hours for it to travel more than five paces. Together hours pass in the blink of an eye. a whole day can be spent laying in bed just being with him. And she's not willing to give that up. Even though she knows his days are not hers alone.
Time is just as sneaky as happiness. It plays tricks the same way. Easing the pain and nurturing the seed of hope. Letting her think that maybe just maybe this one will be different. Only time will tell. But her sense of time has all but slipped away. It's been 20 years. 38 pairs of lips have met hers. 5 men know what she sounds like, what she looks like when she is in that place. But there has only ever been one close call to love, and that was young love. Innocent love. She is starting to believe that maybe there will be no other love for her. Yes she's young. But bitter. And aged beyond her short life. And so the pattern continues. She's just waiting now. There have been a few times, with the current time waster, when the end was in sight. But for some reason it always fades from view. Giving her just enough hope to see him one more time. Forget about the other girls for one more day. Hold out for love, maybe not from him but from someone. There's got to be that. That small glimmer of hope or else none of it is worth it. The high school boy friends. The late night drives to the one with the amazing green eyes. Not even the nights spent in the newest one's bed. Those nights may be the most feeble of all because they seem the most important. It is the freshest wounds that sting the most when the salt gets rubbed in them. Not the old scars. Although they serve their purpose as well. If she loses sight of that hope then she will give up for real and then all of it will be lost. All of it sent to a place too dark for her to see why she held on to them and that just can't happen.
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Fountain Drinks Any Size 69 Cents
He picked her up after he got out of work. She was ready and waiting and slid right into the passenger seat. Then it was all leaning over with the console digging into her ribs for those in the car kisses. Nice to see you and how was your day. The drive was familiar but long. His hand floated from the wheel to her thigh and back again. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, her fingers twirling his hair gently. A little less than half way there and it was into the store. Stop to get some gas. Joke about the signs. Have a good laugh. Create a memory. Then it was on the road again. Those curve filled hills that are so much fun to drive. Their conversation flowed easily in and out of joking to serious to somewhere in between. Comfortable. But still exciting. Still happy to be spending any spare second with him.
Pull into the drive way, steal some kisses before they head inside. It was a beautiful night, stars as far as you could see. A little over a half moon. And then it's inside, through the almost comically so squeaky screen door. More kisses in the living room. Up the stairs into the bedroom. Little massages with kisses all the way through. Then sleep. That sweet, dreamless, deep sleep that can only happen when there is another body in the bed with you. He steals the covers. Always has. She pulls the spare comforter off the foot of the bed and snuggles back in. His hands find their way to her side of the bed through out the night. They land on her hip. Graze over a breast. He pulls her close to him. His body mirroring hers. His legs folding in behind hers, matching their angle exactly. His arms around her. His lips so close to her neck she can feel his breath. This is what it's all about she thinks. This is why the other girls don't matter to me.
Because of this feeling
Right
Here.
They wake up in the morning to the sun's slant shadow on the walls. Too early to get out of bed. He invites her back under his blanket, lifting it so she can slide in close to him. They sleep that way for a while longer. Then it's all alarm clocks and snooze buttons. He gets up to make coffee she slips back into an easy sleep. When she wakes alone an hour later she goes in search of him and finds him in the kitchen coffee pot in hand. His kisses chase whatever is left of sleeps hold on her away. They wander the downstairs for a bit, sit out in the sun. Then the kisses change. From the playful little kisses they had shared to the other ones. These kisses have a purpose.
So it's back up the stairs. He leans her against the wall and his kiss says all that she needs to know. He leads her to the bedroom and lays her down. The pillow still holds the indent from her sleep. It's all a flurry of kisses then. Snaps and zippers. Tee shirts pulled over head. What do you want me to do. She instructs him only so far. He takes it from there. Afterwards she lays there. Her muscles in that relaxed heated state that only comes from good sex or a hot bath. He gets into the shower and she can hear the small noises that he makes. Opening the shampoo bottle. Pulling the shower curtain closed a little more. The door opens and he comes back into the room.
She was reading but she puts her book down.
She watches him as he dresses.
And she is happy.
He picked her up after he got out of work. She was ready and waiting and slid right into the passenger seat. Then it was all leaning over with the console digging into her ribs for those in the car kisses. Nice to see you and how was your day. The drive was familiar but long. His hand floated from the wheel to her thigh and back again. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, her fingers twirling his hair gently. A little less than half way there and it was into the store. Stop to get some gas. Joke about the signs. Have a good laugh. Create a memory. Then it was on the road again. Those curve filled hills that are so much fun to drive. Their conversation flowed easily in and out of joking to serious to somewhere in between. Comfortable. But still exciting. Still happy to be spending any spare second with him.
Pull into the drive way, steal some kisses before they head inside. It was a beautiful night, stars as far as you could see. A little over a half moon. And then it's inside, through the almost comically so squeaky screen door. More kisses in the living room. Up the stairs into the bedroom. Little massages with kisses all the way through. Then sleep. That sweet, dreamless, deep sleep that can only happen when there is another body in the bed with you. He steals the covers. Always has. She pulls the spare comforter off the foot of the bed and snuggles back in. His hands find their way to her side of the bed through out the night. They land on her hip. Graze over a breast. He pulls her close to him. His body mirroring hers. His legs folding in behind hers, matching their angle exactly. His arms around her. His lips so close to her neck she can feel his breath. This is what it's all about she thinks. This is why the other girls don't matter to me.
Because of this feeling
Right
Here.
They wake up in the morning to the sun's slant shadow on the walls. Too early to get out of bed. He invites her back under his blanket, lifting it so she can slide in close to him. They sleep that way for a while longer. Then it's all alarm clocks and snooze buttons. He gets up to make coffee she slips back into an easy sleep. When she wakes alone an hour later she goes in search of him and finds him in the kitchen coffee pot in hand. His kisses chase whatever is left of sleeps hold on her away. They wander the downstairs for a bit, sit out in the sun. Then the kisses change. From the playful little kisses they had shared to the other ones. These kisses have a purpose.
So it's back up the stairs. He leans her against the wall and his kiss says all that she needs to know. He leads her to the bedroom and lays her down. The pillow still holds the indent from her sleep. It's all a flurry of kisses then. Snaps and zippers. Tee shirts pulled over head. What do you want me to do. She instructs him only so far. He takes it from there. Afterwards she lays there. Her muscles in that relaxed heated state that only comes from good sex or a hot bath. He gets into the shower and she can hear the small noises that he makes. Opening the shampoo bottle. Pulling the shower curtain closed a little more. The door opens and he comes back into the room.
She was reading but she puts her book down.
She watches him as he dresses.
And she is happy.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Boy You Still Look Pretty When You're Putting The Damage On
As much as I hate this "relationship" we are in right now I want to stay
I want to figure this out
Make it better
Make it right
This is big for me
Huge
This is the first time I've ever liked anyone enough to stick with it
A very large part of me is screaming RUN in a horse voice that I've heard before and usually listen to
But it's silent tonight
I told her to stay out of it
Told myself to talk to you first
Get a feel for how this is going to continue
If this is going to continue
I'm ready to be with you
Just you
No more of this I sleep with him
You sleep with her bullshit
If you don't want to be with just me than it will have to be cut and dry
No phone calls
No friendly lunches or hanging out
That would be too painful for me
Salt in the wound and all that
I'm scared shitless to think that I am going to say this to you
Because I think I know what your answer is going to be
And I don't want to be without you
To have that last kiss, because you promised the one in my driveway wasn't
To sleep alone again
Have my hand go unheld
My lips unkissed
My nights will go back to tv and cds
Books and magazines
My days will be all work and no play
And I never did like being dull
The phone won't ring anymore
At least not with you on the other end
I like you
A lot
And I want you to know that I don't want the end of this to be so soon
But it can't go on like this
I can't go on like this
As much as I hate this "relationship" we are in right now I want to stay
I want to figure this out
Make it better
Make it right
This is big for me
Huge
This is the first time I've ever liked anyone enough to stick with it
A very large part of me is screaming RUN in a horse voice that I've heard before and usually listen to
But it's silent tonight
I told her to stay out of it
Told myself to talk to you first
Get a feel for how this is going to continue
If this is going to continue
I'm ready to be with you
Just you
No more of this I sleep with him
You sleep with her bullshit
If you don't want to be with just me than it will have to be cut and dry
No phone calls
No friendly lunches or hanging out
That would be too painful for me
Salt in the wound and all that
I'm scared shitless to think that I am going to say this to you
Because I think I know what your answer is going to be
And I don't want to be without you
To have that last kiss, because you promised the one in my driveway wasn't
To sleep alone again
Have my hand go unheld
My lips unkissed
My nights will go back to tv and cds
Books and magazines
My days will be all work and no play
And I never did like being dull
The phone won't ring anymore
At least not with you on the other end
I like you
A lot
And I want you to know that I don't want the end of this to be so soon
But it can't go on like this
I can't go on like this
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
And This Little Masochist She's Ready To Confess All The Things That I Never Thought That She Could Feel
It seemed so surreal to me. I knew that this conversation or a version of it would eventually take place but I never thought it would be this soon. It was the little things that seemed to be magnified that made it real for me. The feel of your hand on my thigh, the smell of you all around me, the tan line between your thumb and first finger. The interior of your car, it's tan with little rainbow zig zags have you ever noticed? I was focusing so hard on these things trying not to really hear you. I didn't want those words to get into my head I didn't want to feel them. So when I heard them coming from my own mouth I was shocked.
'Do you not want to see me anymore because of this'
I knew the weight of that question. But I had to know. Those few seconds you took to answer me felt like life times. And my heart sank with each passing one.
'I still want to see you' pause
'I like you a lot' pause
'I just need to do some thinking' long pause.
Damage control took over then. I heard you but I didn't feel it right away. My tears came later. Sitting in my driveway. Still staring at the car door. Up. Down. Red. Orange. Up. Down. Yellow. Green. Up. Down. Blue. Purple. Up. Down. I hate to cry. I hate even more to cry in front of people. I hate it the most to cry in front of someone I like. But there was nothing I could do. I felt the tears coming and tried to hold them back, but the little bastards just snuck out.
I know he was married and that is a big issue. But it took you getting upset for me to see the problem with that. It was always something I wanted to do.
'Haven't you ever done something just to prove that you could'
pause 'I guess but not in that way'
I didn't regret it I didn't feel bad about it. Until I saw that it was changing what we are.
'I don't know if this can ever turn into a long term thing now'
Oh shit oh shit oh shit running through my head a million times a second. Here we go again. Classic. Trademark Emily shit. Be happy then fuck it up.
Just.
Like.
Always.
It got better. There in my driveway. Not tons, but taking a few steps toward the line between better and ok.
'I'm sorry'
'I know you are' pause
'but I don't know if you genuinely mean it'
I do. Believe that. If you can't believe anything else I said this afternoon take that as the truth. Take it as I meant it. I never would have done it if I thought this would be the result. We sat in your car me crying slowly and you telling me you still wanted to see me. At least I still had that. I just like you so much. It scares the shit out of me. Part of me did it to prove I still could, sleep with someone else that is. Like if I can then it means I don't like you as much as I do. I know you didn't (and probably never will now) want a serious relationship so I am constantly holding back how I'm feeling. And I know part of this was just that coming to light.
'I don't want this to be the last time I kiss you'
'This won't be the last time you kiss me. I promise you that'
'See you Thursday?'
'Yeah'
It seemed so surreal to me. I knew that this conversation or a version of it would eventually take place but I never thought it would be this soon. It was the little things that seemed to be magnified that made it real for me. The feel of your hand on my thigh, the smell of you all around me, the tan line between your thumb and first finger. The interior of your car, it's tan with little rainbow zig zags have you ever noticed? I was focusing so hard on these things trying not to really hear you. I didn't want those words to get into my head I didn't want to feel them. So when I heard them coming from my own mouth I was shocked.
'Do you not want to see me anymore because of this'
I knew the weight of that question. But I had to know. Those few seconds you took to answer me felt like life times. And my heart sank with each passing one.
'I still want to see you' pause
'I like you a lot' pause
'I just need to do some thinking' long pause.
Damage control took over then. I heard you but I didn't feel it right away. My tears came later. Sitting in my driveway. Still staring at the car door. Up. Down. Red. Orange. Up. Down. Yellow. Green. Up. Down. Blue. Purple. Up. Down. I hate to cry. I hate even more to cry in front of people. I hate it the most to cry in front of someone I like. But there was nothing I could do. I felt the tears coming and tried to hold them back, but the little bastards just snuck out.
I know he was married and that is a big issue. But it took you getting upset for me to see the problem with that. It was always something I wanted to do.
'Haven't you ever done something just to prove that you could'
pause 'I guess but not in that way'
I didn't regret it I didn't feel bad about it. Until I saw that it was changing what we are.
'I don't know if this can ever turn into a long term thing now'
Oh shit oh shit oh shit running through my head a million times a second. Here we go again. Classic. Trademark Emily shit. Be happy then fuck it up.
Just.
Like.
Always.
It got better. There in my driveway. Not tons, but taking a few steps toward the line between better and ok.
'I'm sorry'
'I know you are' pause
'but I don't know if you genuinely mean it'
I do. Believe that. If you can't believe anything else I said this afternoon take that as the truth. Take it as I meant it. I never would have done it if I thought this would be the result. We sat in your car me crying slowly and you telling me you still wanted to see me. At least I still had that. I just like you so much. It scares the shit out of me. Part of me did it to prove I still could, sleep with someone else that is. Like if I can then it means I don't like you as much as I do. I know you didn't (and probably never will now) want a serious relationship so I am constantly holding back how I'm feeling. And I know part of this was just that coming to light.
'I don't want this to be the last time I kiss you'
'This won't be the last time you kiss me. I promise you that'
'See you Thursday?'
'Yeah'
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Haven't You Wondered Why I'm Always Alone When You're In My Dreams
I slept fitfully last night. I Woke up about three times an hour. You were laying right next to me but in my dreams you were walking away. You were sick of my Jealousy. Sick of me bringing it up. When I told you how I felt about it, that I understand you two are remaining friends but I just because I understand doesn't mean I have to like it, or even be ok with it. You shook your head and you laughed with you face pointed toward the ground. It was a hurtful little laugh. One that I heard when I woke up, and at times throughout the day. Every time I thought about those dreams. I'd hear that laugh and I'd know it's only a matter of time before I really hear it. Not just in my head but coming from your mouth.
I try hard to keep my stupid girl shit to myself. I really do. But we've been honest so I thought I would tell you. I don't like being with you two it makes me feel like the new kid. You guys know everything about each other and I'm still learning. I hate when she tells me what you like or what you don't. She gives me these little bits of information about things I want to learn on my own. I want to get to know you through you not through some step by step manual written by an ex girlfriend. I really do like her, on her own. We get along we're friends, and maybe that just makes it that much harder.
It's not even her that I get mad about, yeah I feel third wheel-ish around you two but it really isn't that bad. I can see that you two still love each other but as friends. I know you decided to stay friends because you both mean a lot to each other, I get a bit dramatic about it all and I apologize for that. But it's the other women. The hairdresser. The other one you were/are still seeing. I love that we are honest with each other but I don't need to know every single girl you kiss or who gives you her number. Once you sleep with her feel free to let me know but if it's just harmless flirting feel free to keep it to yourself. Over the past couple of days I've been thinking more and more about our 'relationship' and the more I think about it the more I really do like it. It's pretty much the perfect thing for the both of us right now, I think anyway. I've never been good at being a great girlfriend. But then the just sex thing didn't work either. So this is a good mix of the two, I basically get to have the loving stuff, the little kisses, holding hands. Just sleeping next to you is great, but then there are no strings no one is going to get pissed when either one of us sees someone else, because that's what we have discussed. Well I know I get jealous. And I can't promise that I won't ever get that way again. But I can promise no more anger, as long as I know what is going on and where we both stand I think I can deal with what we've got here.
*please note the 'I think' in that sentence.
I slept fitfully last night. I Woke up about three times an hour. You were laying right next to me but in my dreams you were walking away. You were sick of my Jealousy. Sick of me bringing it up. When I told you how I felt about it, that I understand you two are remaining friends but I just because I understand doesn't mean I have to like it, or even be ok with it. You shook your head and you laughed with you face pointed toward the ground. It was a hurtful little laugh. One that I heard when I woke up, and at times throughout the day. Every time I thought about those dreams. I'd hear that laugh and I'd know it's only a matter of time before I really hear it. Not just in my head but coming from your mouth.
I try hard to keep my stupid girl shit to myself. I really do. But we've been honest so I thought I would tell you. I don't like being with you two it makes me feel like the new kid. You guys know everything about each other and I'm still learning. I hate when she tells me what you like or what you don't. She gives me these little bits of information about things I want to learn on my own. I want to get to know you through you not through some step by step manual written by an ex girlfriend. I really do like her, on her own. We get along we're friends, and maybe that just makes it that much harder.
It's not even her that I get mad about, yeah I feel third wheel-ish around you two but it really isn't that bad. I can see that you two still love each other but as friends. I know you decided to stay friends because you both mean a lot to each other, I get a bit dramatic about it all and I apologize for that. But it's the other women. The hairdresser. The other one you were/are still seeing. I love that we are honest with each other but I don't need to know every single girl you kiss or who gives you her number. Once you sleep with her feel free to let me know but if it's just harmless flirting feel free to keep it to yourself. Over the past couple of days I've been thinking more and more about our 'relationship' and the more I think about it the more I really do like it. It's pretty much the perfect thing for the both of us right now, I think anyway. I've never been good at being a great girlfriend. But then the just sex thing didn't work either. So this is a good mix of the two, I basically get to have the loving stuff, the little kisses, holding hands. Just sleeping next to you is great, but then there are no strings no one is going to get pissed when either one of us sees someone else, because that's what we have discussed. Well I know I get jealous. And I can't promise that I won't ever get that way again. But I can promise no more anger, as long as I know what is going on and where we both stand I think I can deal with what we've got here.
*please note the 'I think' in that sentence.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
I Want You, But I Want You To Understand
So I've fallen harder for you then I thought I would. You with your never quite messy hair and top two buttons always undone. While I was gone I missed you in a way I didn't want to. Reluctantly but intensely none the less. I kept thinking how much better it would be if you were up there with me. Simple things would've just been a little bit cooler. Laying in the hammock would have been made better if you were laying in it next to me. Sleeping in a tent with you would have made the ground seem less hard and rocky. But you weren't up there and I was lonely and Drunk.
I found myself buzzy and in his tent. His arms around me, mine half heartedly around his neck. It felt wrong to me. Not wrong like I shouldn't be doing it, because you do it so why shouldn't I be able to, but wrong like it just didn't fit. His kiss was too soft and void of what I feel in yours. His face was soft where yours has always been rough-ish. We did have sex but it was so gentle that word doesn't even describe it correctly. It made me feel....Off. Not bad, but not good. Just a little off. It seemed that everything was just to the left or right of feeling good. His kisses weren't yours. His hands traced over the same places but there was no excitement left behind. I was going through the motions without any of the emotion that should be involved. Before you I didn't get that. Sex shouldn't always be just sex. It's nice to have the feelings in there with it. Nice to have eye contact and little kisses. I feel that with you.
Afterward I felt so horrible. I avoided him all the next day. Hiding myself away in the other room with a book and a few cds. It wasn't him. It was me. I felt like I had done something that was going to ruin everything I had back in Massachusetts. I spent most of the remaining time up there thinking about telling you and how you would react. I'll admit that part of me was thinking "hah now I've slept with someone else too" but it didn't make me feel that way. It made me feel really shitty.
When I got home. When I saw you, standing there in the glow of the street light. It hit me how much I really did miss you. I wanted to stand there hugging you all night. Breath in the scent of you. Run my hands through your hair. Nibble on your ear. Everything I missed for those five days I was without you. Later when we were alone and talking about the weekend I told you. Now you know how I feel about her and that situation. And maybe it's not going to stop you, but now at least when you go to call her or lean in to kiss her, you'll can remember that just last weekend I was doing the same thing. Someone else was looking down at me. Leaning in to whisper in my ear. Kissing my neck. Remember how you felt when I told you that. That low tug of jealousy. It's not fun.
It's not fun at all.
So I've fallen harder for you then I thought I would. You with your never quite messy hair and top two buttons always undone. While I was gone I missed you in a way I didn't want to. Reluctantly but intensely none the less. I kept thinking how much better it would be if you were up there with me. Simple things would've just been a little bit cooler. Laying in the hammock would have been made better if you were laying in it next to me. Sleeping in a tent with you would have made the ground seem less hard and rocky. But you weren't up there and I was lonely and Drunk.
I found myself buzzy and in his tent. His arms around me, mine half heartedly around his neck. It felt wrong to me. Not wrong like I shouldn't be doing it, because you do it so why shouldn't I be able to, but wrong like it just didn't fit. His kiss was too soft and void of what I feel in yours. His face was soft where yours has always been rough-ish. We did have sex but it was so gentle that word doesn't even describe it correctly. It made me feel....Off. Not bad, but not good. Just a little off. It seemed that everything was just to the left or right of feeling good. His kisses weren't yours. His hands traced over the same places but there was no excitement left behind. I was going through the motions without any of the emotion that should be involved. Before you I didn't get that. Sex shouldn't always be just sex. It's nice to have the feelings in there with it. Nice to have eye contact and little kisses. I feel that with you.
Afterward I felt so horrible. I avoided him all the next day. Hiding myself away in the other room with a book and a few cds. It wasn't him. It was me. I felt like I had done something that was going to ruin everything I had back in Massachusetts. I spent most of the remaining time up there thinking about telling you and how you would react. I'll admit that part of me was thinking "hah now I've slept with someone else too" but it didn't make me feel that way. It made me feel really shitty.
When I got home. When I saw you, standing there in the glow of the street light. It hit me how much I really did miss you. I wanted to stand there hugging you all night. Breath in the scent of you. Run my hands through your hair. Nibble on your ear. Everything I missed for those five days I was without you. Later when we were alone and talking about the weekend I told you. Now you know how I feel about her and that situation. And maybe it's not going to stop you, but now at least when you go to call her or lean in to kiss her, you'll can remember that just last weekend I was doing the same thing. Someone else was looking down at me. Leaning in to whisper in my ear. Kissing my neck. Remember how you felt when I told you that. That low tug of jealousy. It's not fun.
It's not fun at all.
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