burn, burn, burn.
i watched walk the line tonight. and you know near the end... when johnny is spinning june around on stage. and they got their arms all tangled in each other's hair. and the lighting guy did this great job and the camera angle is perfect... and its poetic. and its love. and you wish you had a picture of that moment. because maybe if you had a picture, you could understand it better. you could stare and touch and think about that moment.

i never took pictures of you. i don't know why. i was scared maybe. scared to hold our moments. i was so different then. i can't even remember.

i tried to take pictures of you. but they all came out wrong. we never had those moments. the pictures are fine. but the lighting is all wrong. and our faces don't match up.

i want to take your picture so badly. i want to capture those moments in the morning. when we are both still half-awake. when your skin becomes the most important thing i can see. i've ever seen.

"we just make sense, don't we?"

we shamelessly made-out across town. mutually masturbating to the pleasure of being with the other.

"we're just so into each other."



i'm trying. trying to accept every day as one day. trying not to plan and hope and think about anything but the present. it's hard. something i always struggled with. i wonder why i want to believe everything is going to last forever. because it hurts when the other person lets something slip that shows their rationality towards the situation. it hurts to be reminded how ridiculous i am. i hate endings. i never can tell when they are coming. i want every feeling to last forever.

you're gonna make me lonesome when you go.
you wish you could see what we looked like in bed. lying on our sides naked. facing each other. i wish you could feel the way you freeze me. standing together in the shower at 4 in the morning, you looked so unbelievably good. and you opened your mouth. and what comes out is this, "i've never felt like this before." i freeze. you wonder if i believe you. i do believe you. i'm just frozen darling.

fuck that.
i can't end that post like that. it is not clear enough.

i rolled off of him so fast and the tears came instantly. i rarely feel that attacked by words. but it was an attack on me. on him. on the relationship we had. and it was oh so wrong. it was bitter. it was unfair. maybe one day he will understand my past... but it became so clear that he can't right now. he has no fucking clue. and to think that he could comment on it like that... with such cockiness. such an assured tone. like he knew. like he had it all figured out. and he ripped it apart with that sentence. ripped so much. diluted so much intensity. summed it up in one sentence. one sentence that does not do anything justice.

i lied. its the second time he's done this. with the same person too. i told him the story. the story of how we got together... and the stumbles before we actually did get together. and his response...

"that must have felt pretty shitty to be second choice."



we get older. we accumulate. history. stories. pasts. we should never be naive enough in our interactions with others... naive enough to think we get it. get what a person has been through. we can hear them describe their pasts... but we can't figure it out. not so easily. its not all neatly packaged up like that. its not simply something to unwrap and own. you have to be gentle with each other. so much happened before we knew each other. so many kumas.

so much we will never understand about each other.
so much we will never access.
how do we deal with this?
how can we?

so its 3am again.
you said it. there it was. the first time you've let hurtful words slip. they spun themselves together in your head so fast that i didn't have time to prepare. i didn't see them line up neatly down your throat. they wrung their hands anxiously and waited their respective turns. then you released them. and they ravenously tumbled out, skipping across your tongue. i may not have seen them preparing. but i sure did feel them. feel them as they were catapulted into my face. like a 2x4.

"stop this."
"why? because you've already dated the boy with wasted potential?"

rip. tear. the nails on your wood are coming out in all the wrong places. namely through my face.

you don't even have a clue. you don't even have a clue.

i got the right tactics to turn you on.
i hate being a cliche.
i hate re-reading old posts and seeing the same themes re-occuring.
i hate that i can't quite remember what it was like without you... and you've only been here for 2 months.
i hate that i am dancing to sean paul right now.
i hate being rejected. i spend too much time running from rejection.
i hate that my little plant looks like its dying.
i hate myself for being scared and for pushing you away. i hate what i told you the other night... hate how it is going to change how we interract. i hate that i think i should be getting sick of you... that i should be scared of how fast we're going... when i'm not. who put these ideas in my head? why why why do i work on the timelines/rules of others!?!? this is what i must unlearn.
i'm sorry for my neurotic tendencies. please don't pull away because i told you that i am supposed to need space. i don't need space. i really don't. i don't know what to do with that space... except think of you.