love left.
(1)
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"is your place in heaven worth giving up these kisses?"
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i do not know what to do. out of everyone i know, you are the only person i fully trust and admire; you breathe in everything i adore. i'm just so confused and have no idea how to feel or even know how i'm supposed to feel. i overanalyze everything; i'm too gullible; i believe every word any random male tells me to come true. but it was awkward. i never thought **** could be... was i not good enough? i wanted to- i really did- but my body clamped up. i'm afraid, will i ever get feeling? i would've felt bad to say otherwise; i didn't want to hurt his feelings. it's me. i can't handle it. i don't even want him, i just want him there. not always, but to acknowledge me. i could tell he was afraid.
i'm not in love w/ him. not even halfway. then why is this so draining? why am i so worried? i knew what i was getting into, i knew what was going to happen....
You are so incredibly supportive; you are the one male who truly cares about my well being. i could pour out everything to you, never having to worry about what you will think. your friendships are unconditional. i long for that.
oh how i get into messes! i'm the queen of messes. oh i feel better now. just knowing you are there always makes me feel better.
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(2)
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you lie lie lie you fake christian- extortion of faith from thee while tears are released from my chambers- a throbbing heart w/ empty bleachers. you liar, you snake, you showed before me, you showed it all. you make no sense to me you bastard on wheels, i think i'll make a banshee, a safe haven from your hypocracies.
i love my math boys; they don't make ones so furious at the rain, washing into blondes, cleaner than you fucking God.
you want me to be the epitome of sex. (i want to be the epitome of sex). let's forget good byes oh breaker of promises. i broke (got 2 you) first.
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(3)
this is kind of funny because i haven't really seen you in a while, and i'm trying to take a break from writing, but the words- they don't forgive.
and i don't understand you. i don't understand why you act like you care one minute, getting into conversations, adding things in, standing so close to me... it's like you never left...
and i get so confused. sometimes i just want to hold you, telling you it's okay and that it doesn't matter, but it does. and i hate this: being sentimental, not making sense, ripping through these ghastly words like they care. i wish they did.
and i'm underrated. not appreciated. and you, and others, you just walk right past the things i've grown from bits of you- unresponsive, apathetic.
but things don't always flow: like suicide notes; like brandy.
and you mention me seeing you at work. ha. you've never seen me at work, the castles i've built for you, the roads paved in silver.
...yet. that's okay.
if i still care, one day you will.
i believe that you will.
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(4)
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whever there are breaths i'll be loving you
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if i could go out to dinner w/ anyone, it would be thomas william simpson, one of my favorite authors. not many people have heard of him, at least that i know of, but he is an amazing writer who i think deserves attention. but anyways...
we would go to some fancy restaurant in new jersey, because in all of his novels the scene is set there. our restaurant of choice- the ritz. he would be drinking champagne and i would try to steal some in order to loosen up. our dinner would consist of ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ and i would of course have to get dessert- prefferibly something chocolate.
the conversation would go something like this:
"so i find it odd that in "the gypsy storyteller" that the 2 male leads- matthew and daniel- are named after 2 of my best friends. is that a coincidence or what?"
passing me a glass of wine, he would reply, "i pull these things out of my subconscious- whatever looms in the dark of my brain that's eating to get out."
"whoa," i stammer, "that's deep."
"yes, so tell me about the matthew and daniel you know."
my eyes light up.
"well," i begin, "matthew is one of my best friends- one of my greatest loves; the first person i've fallen in love w/ in fact."
"ah, continue."
"yet there's a distance- like in your novel- that can never be penetrated... but it's all there, i can feel it.
"i see. what about daniel?"
"daniel's a bit different," i say staring down at my plate, "he comes and goes w/ the tides, always open, but i'm not open to him. i'm only open to matthew."
he smiles. "rachel never could get it right."
i return the smile. "matthew couldn't either."
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