so long, marianne.
i said goodbye to one roomie tonight. its strange how one person can hold so much of my sanity. its strange how she doesn't know. how much i depend on her. of course she knows. its finally sinking in a bit. that summer is here. that i am not leaving. instead, i am being left. the good ones are leaving. leaving me. what am i doing here this summer? why did i sign up for this? this summer of loneliness? what am i doing here... without a job... without a real plan? without so many friends?

so i made this decision when i was with him. i denied it at first. then defended it later. staying in montreal to be with him was no crime. and now we are no more. but you know what? i never once questioned staying here anyways. people always tell you not to compromise for another... not to lose yourself in foolishness.

i say... fuck that. fuck that whole philosophy. everything is a risk. every choice is motivated by something or someone. whats the harm in following what feels good at the time? there aren't any corners for me right now. its all open field. i'm trying to write something here... something that conveys hope and choice and promise... but every time i try to write the words, it sounds so shitty. and preachy. so maybe you'll just have to trust that i have that big happy feeling in my chest. the kind that sort of puffs you up. sit up straight. smile a bit. look around at all the magnificent things around you. thats me.

(i wonder if i would be so content staying here if i had not met you. silly to wonder. because i have met you.


and you feel so good to be with.)

this post started with me almost in tears. feeling nostalgic and scared. funny how it ended with a completely different sentiment.

now that i know.
my school year is complete. i have a new pink couch in my room. these next couple of months, i plan on spending countless hours in its arms. with books. i bought some drawing pencils today. i am hoping it may inspire me to do some drawing. coming soon: summer must-do list. working it out in my head still.

fuck. all i want to write about is the 24 hour date i had yesterday. but all this blog has been is boys, boys, boys. and that is fucking sickening.

so instead i will shut up.


you can't win.

it never changes to stop.
writing is hard. setting the tone for a post is very important. where do i begin? how do i get you to get me? what scene from my day will best convey everything i am feeling?

so it was 3ish... my head was still spinning from last night's debauchery. i remember starting a dance floor. i remember writing in justin's notebook. it was a matisse quote. i remember grabbing my roomie's face and telling her how amazing she is. i stole a kiss in your new room. i learned why hal left victoria, bc. i ripped someone's shirt. i got invited to a party may 5th. i drew on a chalkboard. i checked out your ex. she smiled at me. we look like complete opposites. her of the dark-haired, curvy, hippy cool, wallflower variety. me with the freckles, bad posture, and made-up face.

so it was 3:15ish... i was staring at my white ceiling. i had a bag of popcorn for breakfast/lunch. i noticed you cleaned up after yourself in the kitchen. three different glasses of water were lying around my room. each at different levels of emptiness.

10:15... you got up. you were perky. i was in pain. you made yourself breakfast and broke a glass. you made sure to tell me to wear shoes in the kitchen. i told you to shut up. you told me you had to be chatty... it was the only time we'd be spending together today. you laughed at the way your male friends "picked out" my roomie and i. i shrugged. smugly, of course. you told me the ex gave her approval. i wondered what she saw in me.

at 3:30 i tried to call my ex. my head was still in poor shape and i needed something comforting. plus i needed to tell him. to hear him smiling.

at 12 last night i walked into your party... the party at your new place. i had a plan. i was with my favourite girl. we didn't know anyone there. we were to mingle... work the room... not depend on you. i was going to meet your friends, dance, not need you, and be untouchable. i drank heavily before arriving.

tonight. i wondered how soon is too soon to call you again.


"we have so much time."

i'd like to see you on your back.
so we will take it slow.
and i will write like this for now.
sentence by sentence.
line by line.

i will slowly pretend i didn't fall face first.
i'm sure you will know.
i will slowly pretend i don't know.

you intimidate me.
you scare me.
you excite me.
you made me a mix cd. track 13 emf - unbelievable.
i don't want to disappoint you.
i want you to find in me the things you are expecting.

i want to make this different.
i don't know how.
but i guess that is a compliment.
i took it as one when you said it to me.

i need to sleep.
what i really need...
is to concentrate on my last days of school.
sometimes school feels so entirely irrelevant.

it's not hard.
i've never slept beside anyone who wore glasses.
you scratched my back differently than the last.
you spooned me differently too.
i'm sorry that these comparisons have to happen.
it just hasn't been very long.
you are confusing.
i think you are more insecure than you let on.
i think i like that.
we danced. and yes. i can follow a lead.
i've already incorporated one of your speech habits into my conversations.
damn.
"you make me feel so... good."
you better be thinking about me you bastard.
because quite frankly it wouldn't be fair if you weren't.
you make me want to write.
you make me want to take pictures.
i want to run around screaming naked in the park.
i want to drink a 750 of vodka, bike to your place, and stumble into your arms.
i want to know you.

i want my bed to smell like you always.

like a drunken pirate shipwreck.
i am making a promise right now. a promise to me. a promise to you. a promise because i can't remember the last time i made a real one. and that is shitty.

so i am promising. promising that this will be the final post on the recent saga with a certain boy. i am promising this because i have been in a really good place lately. and in this place, i will not obsess. i will let it be. i will walk home alone smiling to myself. i will drag my feet and feel content with it all. i am promising because i can't quite figure him out. and i can't be bothered to try. so i am promising to stop looking for a sign. i am not in a place to chase. to win. to proove something. i am in a breezy place right now. and in this place, i promise to be the one to step back. i promise to take my head out of this feeling. i promise to try not to write stories in my head for us. i can't figure out the truth under all my concocting. i can't even figure out if i'm concocting at all. (it was a beautiful thing in my head though. just so you know.) we were stuck in a very intense environment... and its over. so maybe i was caught up in that. i don't know if we exist outside of that environment. hell, i don't even know what existed inside of it.

i felt it. for a second. maybe we peaked on that walk. and if we did... i promise to get over it. if anything comes of this... it comes. but i promise not to hunt it down. i'll let it get away, to wherever it needs to go. i am promising to put my shotgun away. tuck it under my bed. and continue on unarmed.

i've hunted before. i've obsessed before. and to what end?

this time. if i know him at all... i know he won't let me get away if he wants me. i am content knowing that he has to be the hunter here. i need to be hunted. it has to be that way. it just does.

maybe it sounds like i will sit and wait. maybe it does sound like that. that is what it sounds like i suppose. that is wrong. i'm tired. things don't need to be hard.



he knows where i am. i know where he is. its not hard. its not hard.

a better attempt at making something.
so i had you sitting in my bathroom. on the squeaky swivel chair. towel draped over your shoulders, scissors in my hand. you were forced to relinquish control. i was forced to make a move.

we talked about dates. chop. about gender. chop. about past relationships. chop. about the people we used to be. chop chop chop.

and then it was over. you had your new hair. i had a bathroom full of pieces of you.



there is something so simple yet so poetic about cutting someone's hair. and so i jabbed him in the ear with the scissors once. its only fair. he's fucking driving me insane.

your hair is everywhere.
its stuck on the bottom of my feet... i've been trailing it around the house all day. its piled in the washroom garbage... strands are attached to the sink... its clogging my drain.

i would make an incredibly poorly written analogy right here... about your hair having taken over my home, my physical space... the same way the rest of you has begun to colonize my head. but i won't. even though i just did. fucking hell.

the real tragedy... is that your act is just boring and old.
xxxx,

(...)

ok... on to what i am supposed to be writing about. and xxxx, i am not sure what that is... so bear with me. i know this is supposed to be some sort of post breakup closure... setting the tone for what happens next... but i got nothing. i have nothing i need to resolve. i think that the decision we made was the right one and was almost overdue. we could have saved ourselves some emotional turmoil had it happened sooner. i’m glad you are equally satisfied with things as that only reassures me that it was the right decision to not let things go on any longer. for me, its not about being in a "single" mindset... i just feel lighter. i think i was so caught up in trying to convince you of certain things... that i lost track of my own feelings along the way. i feel content about the situation, our relationship, and even its end. i agree that we weren’t right for each other and that’s maybe why i feel so at peace with the way things turned out. hahaha... i just said "at peace"... i blame spring. but really... we are at two different places... with different concepts of our selves, our lives, our needs and a lot of other things... neither one of us has it all figured out... but it became pretty evident we weren’t going to figure it out together.

i guess this is the part where i say "we should be friends"... but that is a little cliché... so instead i'll say that i miss your friendship... and we should be in touch. i won’t make it awkward. however, knowing you... you probably will.

you cunt.


-sam

i'm not the one.
so i was sitting on the toilet tonight composing a personal ad in my head... well, not so much a personal ad. i was just thinking about all the things someone should know before jumping on the sam train. the things i wish i could spell out right away. the important bits. and then it hit me... i'm getting old. i'm getting used. i'm getting worn out. i'm like the dirty couch in the corner. the couch that has lumpy spots and springs poking out. with defects caused by wear and tear. i am becoming a woman with a past. with history. its so incredibly strange... to think that new partners will have to deal with all the baggage the old ones have left me with. to realize that i come with so much more baggage than i used to.

please realize, i...
- am the kind of person that... once hooked, will literally give you everything i have. i am the diving deep kind of gal. don't be afraid. please.
- am trying really hard not to play games. i want to call you when i feel like it... i want to tell you how i feel, even if it is too soon... too late... and i want you to do the same.
- need someone who is interested in me. i like to feel someone trying to figure me out... curious about how i work... the things i like... the things i do... the little thoughts i have. i want you to be interested in all the things i think are weird... because i will do the same for you. i will be interested in all your random quirks. i will pry information out of you... i will dissect you and take you apart and put you back together.
- need someone who likes bodies. who likes exploring them. who can laugh at bodies. who can love my body. someone to notice things i have never noticed. someone who is not afraid... and can help me to continue to feel safer in my skin. safer touching the skin of another.
- want someone to make me laugh. to bring out my spontaneous side. someone who will do crazy things with me... who will keep me interested in being with them. someone who will surprise me...
- want someone to teach me. to humble me. to open my eyes.

holy fuck. i am one demanding chica. i guess i am feeling a tad... wistful tonight. you'll have to excuse me.

one more addendum... i do not need all of this now. this is by no means a plea for a boy in my life... these are just thoughts for the future. right now... i need to be with me. i know this. and i like this plan. its pretty much the best one i've had in a while.

i guess you're just what i needed.
everywhere i look there are people going at it. in the parks. in doorways. waiting to cross the street. it is absolutely amazing.

and absolutely sexually frustrating. but in the best way i guess... look at me. i'm happy for other people's mushy public displays of affection... you know what that means... i have a spring crush. and its driving me up the wall... in that insane does he like me/is this in my head/argh stop thinking about him you silly girl sorta way.

the roomie and i agree that there is nothing like that initial stage... you become hypersensitive to the other person. you play detective and take every conversation as a clue. every look, gesture... you try to understand it all. and don't even get me started on the way your senses explode when you're near them. any move they make pretty much makes your hairs stand on end. any accidental touch feels like a motherfucking drug... you just want it to happen again and again. and smells... god, its like you've never smelled anything so wonderful in your life.

one of my favourite things is the feeling... the feeling that you know you want to be around this person... that you need to be around this person. but you cannot explain why. at all. there is no reason. its fucking kinetic.