Friday, July 28, 2006

on the chase

looking for a love that's right for me, I don't know how long it's going to be, I hope I treat her fine, I hope I don't mess with her mind, when she starts to see the darker side of me.- Jeff Tweedy (Looking For a Love)

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To not letting them ruin my chances,

I hear the glass clinking of my shot glass to the other two as I down the awful raspberry flavored vodka and grab my coke to wash it down. I hate alcohol.

I've decided tonight that I'm not going to give up easily on a charming boy,

and this may not be the best move i've ever made but nonetheless the combination of me and other persuasive powers convinces him that coming over to a lively house at 3am is-

a good idea?

The evening progresses almost too easily for me;

It's like a game anymore.

I know exactly how it will go.

I will smile friendly. Joke, ask them to enjoy a drink with me- show that i'm capable of holding my own against guys. I'll flirt a little- let him see my tattoo on my shoulder- gets them every time-I'll play coy, standing closer- and before I know it there's loud music around me, and this huge sectional couch that i'm sitting on has plenty of room but me and the charming boy are sitting dangerously close.

Nothing happens- and I know that it won't. We talk and sit close into the early hours of the morning,

and being close to you is nice-

but the reservations are all around us.

Her,

you.

Me,

him.

And then I have the realization I didn't know before now:

I'm scared.

I'm terrified beyond belief of having my heart cracked open again. I'm afraid that if I let someone in, like I let Max in, that they will toy with me and leave me alone and even more broken then they found me. I'm so nervous that I'll be found out for what I am; a sad girl who just wants to be loved- but doesn't know how to love.

So meanwhile I smile, I tease, I flirt, and enjoy the thrill of the chase-

but when I catch what I'm after,

I'm not sure what I'll do.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

on home

they're all lined up at the window, peer down into limbo, frightened of jumping, in case they survive.- Barenaked Ladies (When I Fall)
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I just came to the sad realization that I have no one I can talk to unconditionally,

no one who will let me ramble-

that doesn't want something, anything, from me in return.

I miss my home,

I miss my cat.

I miss my bratty older sister,

I miss my drunk friends.

I miss my bed, and how every night stach or doc would jump up and sleep with me.

I miss the 'Bee's.

I miss Tom-

I miss B-

I miss Ben-

I may even miss Clay,

but I don't know that I'd go that far.

This has been interesting, to say the least.

Monday, July 10, 2006

on girls

You got a lot of stuff, Stuff you don't deserve, You got a lot of friends, You got a lot of nerve, Trust me, you must be hated.- Nikki Cleary (Hated)
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It's like this one time,

The girl walking beside me flips her hair as regales me with a tale of how her roommate idiotically told on the two for something they shouldn't have done.

I told her how stupid it was she did it,

she finishes as I place the keycard to access our room in the door.

Could she be more obvious? She's just told me a story of where she thinks her roommate did something stupid and it's analogous to the situation we are currently in.

My summer best friend.

I smile nonchalantly and choose not to remark on your story, I know you're trying to tell me I fucked up. I won't give you that satisfaction.

I could give you two separate rooms-

I think back to the offer when we first moved in here for the summer- I should have taken the offer, but instead...

No, we're fine, I mean, we already bunked the beds.

I'd responded as I shared a smile with a girl I thought I'd call a friend by summer's end.

My summer best friend.

I mean, if I can get with that other guy, then you can have him.

I remember when she says this as if it makes perfect sense. I can have what she doesn't want anymore- but only if she doesn't want it.

You call her, you're her best friend,

the phone being shoved my way to invite her to play tennis. Everyone else thinks we're so close. No one else sees the obvious tension there.

My summer best friend.

She's so wasted,

I mouth as she stumbles past me into a room, reaking of alcohol and smiling like an idiot. The others try not to laugh as they cover their mouths.

I almost thrive on seeing her drunk, because it reminds me she's human, after all. Her and I are in this constant state of competition that she acts confident she's always winning.

But i'm not stupid- I know how dependent on my company she is, how she can't go somewhere without me there.

My summer best friend,

I can't wait to be free.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

on confusion

She's a jar, with a heavy lid. my pop quiz kid, a sleepy kisser, a pretty war, with feelings hid.- Wilco (She's a Jar)
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You are confusing, you confuse yourself, you use confusion as a way to prevent yourself from having to deal with the bigger issues you don't want to deal with.

I sit and stare at those words, and think about the night before.

You're right, you know.

But I don't think I'll be changing any time soon.

Monday, July 03, 2006

on some level

I struggle with myself again, Quickly the walls are crumbling, Don't know if I can turn away.- Meredith Brooks (What Would Happen)
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I don't know how to be honest with myself,

Somewhere between the fine line of keeping you at bay, and staying your friend, I've lost sight of what I was after.

And what am I after?

I'm more complex then you think,

you tell me.

So am I,

I retort. You think you have me figured out. I'm more than you think, and I don't think you can handle me.

I'm emotional. I'm caring, I know you-

I want to believe that, on some level. While I tell the others I don't care, while I joke you're no one to me, I can't completely hide the truth. But that's just the problem, I hear so much, I know so much, I can't in good faith ever believe a word you say to me.

Do you want to know me? Do you want it all to make sense? We're too different.

I'm too much for you-

I don't know how to finish this statement. But I am. You can't handle me and my 34098754 emotions, my multiple moods. One day I can't get enough of you, the next I don't want to deal. What's that say about me? I'm not sure. I want to be open with you... but I'm afraid you'll break my heart.