This week has been and will continue to be my spring break. This past weekend, he decided to come home (because I’d be there) Saturday morning, he came over for breakfast, french toast and the works, and My Cousin Vinny, curled up in an oversized armchair. Sunday, the ninth, he came over for breakfast again, pancakes this time, and we spent the day together. Watched a movie again after breakfast, “We’re the Millers” and played Minecraft with my little brother for a while. Then I got dressed, polka dotted skirt and a nice polo with my cork sandals, and we went grocery shopping with his parents and picked up the ingredients to make Chinese food, sesame chicken, lo mein, some chicken egg rolls and egg drop soup. Also picked up some fortune cookies. We both, along with his mum, busied ourselves around the kitchen island combining ingredients for this that or the other recipe, and when it was all done we sat around the living room while Catching Fire played. He had his hand around my hips and I leaned on his shoulder. On the way home, he hands me a fortune cookie. The fortune inside: “Would you like to be my girlfriend?” He had painstakingly removed the original fortune, stuffed the new one inside, and RESEALED the package. Of course, I told him yes, I would love to be. He’s taken to kissing the back of the hand he holds while driving. When we arrived at my place, before too long my back was against his truck and my legs around his waist and I told him I loved him (nothing new.). After a while it occurred to me he still had a long drive, so I gently and reluctantly disattached him from me, and smiled the rest of the night.
In less than twelve hours, I will be home again, and in the same town as that boy I’ve grown ever-increasingly fond of over the past two months. We’re making plans, short and long term, we talk every night, I wake up to his face on Skype every morning unless there is some internet hiccup and we get disconnected. He’ll be there for the weekends bookending my break, and one of them will maybe be spent camping together, somewhere, depending on how things go. He gets the biggest grin on his face when he recalls just how soon it will be until I’m in his arms again. I love his grin, so much. He really has such a great smile. On the one hand, I’m giddy as anything about that. On the other hand, I recall that this is what happened the first time, that at first there was this exuberance, this almost puppy-dogging, and then it faded. But things are so very different now, we have a much more open dialogue between us, and I hope this works out. I hope this works out.
So as a result of involvement in my sorority, there has been considerably less involvement in other extracurricular activities that I tend to involve myself in. This evening, a gentleman whom I would consider an acquaintance and is also involved in one of my extracurriculars happened to be at the same establishment as myself. He called my name and we chatted for a few minutes, he asked if I’d be at this week’s meeting, because I haven’t been around much lately. And it really… It felt nice, felt good to know I’d been missed. That my absence had been noted and that someone wanted me back. I don’t tend to think that people really take too much note of my presence. Like a rug or a piece of artwork, it’s nice when I’m around in an abstract sort of way, but I don’t necessarily make much of a difference whether I’m there or not. It’s nice to feel missed, especially by someone I wouldn’t say I know all that well, it shows that I have some impact, however small it may be, to most if not all who come across me. It’s nice to feel that way.
I see this summer. I see a trip to New York, hand in hand in Times Square, but the lights don’t shine as brightly as his smile when he looks at me. I see hanging out by the pool, strolling the beach hand in hand, swimsuit-clad and laughing. I see us, the general definition of societal beauty, the envy of the shore. I see late night movies and snuggling and general merriment, cookouts in my backyard, driving around in his truck, sunset walks by the waterfront and falling in love all over again, but we already are. I see the kind of summer you read about in a cheesy teen romance novel. A picture perfect look at what being young and in love is. Not young love, no, but the best of both worlds. Young and in love. Because we’ve got the rest of our lives.
I think we’re entirely through.
The other day, via our liaison, I received a bag containing what should be the last of my things. And a letter. In it, he basically apologized once more and said he fully expected to never hear from me again. Contained with this letter was a flash drive containing things that made me sick to look at. The contents have since been deleted. Shredded, in fact, I found that my computer antivirus can do that. There were six hundred and sixty six files, a number I found particularly fitting, considering what I went through with the gentleman who gave them to me and on their account. I have no way of knowing if they were the only copies, but I can hope. I won’t hold my breath on that though.
Alright, so riddle me this.
You’re allowed to ask me to be someone who isn’t me, and then when I can’t be anyone BUT me, you know, that girl you fell in love with, YOU get to get pissed at me, tell me how “utterly disappointing” my attempt was, and not talk to me for an hour or so. Which may turn into the whole night. But I know, God forbid I get pissed at you for being pissed at me for being unable to be anyone other than myself. All I have to say is you better not have gone to find that bitch who’ll blow you at your beck and call.
So my boyfriend’s roommate and my new roommate have been really snuggly with eachother lately
And I’ve been wanting them to be together and now they’re all snuggly and kissing and cutesy and I’m just full of all the smiles now.
She stomped into my head and demanded I take her dictation. I had no choice
Love, if you ask me (and no one ever does) is nothing more than a silly, ridiculous, fantasy. I’ve been bitten one too many times by things I thought were love, only to find that the men who claimed such ridiculous things were nothing more than boys, playing dress-up in their fathers clothing. Boys interested in nothing more than foolish flings and illicit encounters I have little interest in. Yes, love is a ploy, a crock, a full-blown fraud, and this is the story of how I fell neck-deep into it.
I don’t think as much as I should
I’m sorry. My end was not to upset you, and I have, and for that I apologize and I won’t do it again.
I hate that you won’t kiss me when you’re mad. I don’t want things to be like this. I love you.
Today I saw a boy with the most beautiful smile.
His eyes, how they glimmered with promise. And I would have stopped him, to tell him just how dazzling that grin was, but normal people just don’t do that. And that would have been tantamount to flirting, even though I wouldn’t have meant even the slightest thing by it, I just think that the beautiful things of this world should be appreciated.