Caught between my heart and head
I couldn't help the things I said
By the time I shut my mouth, oh God
I was mortified
Just set me on f-f-fire
The longer I stay
The more I want to and
Baby, I'm yours.
I'm trying to hold you at arms' length. I'm holding you close in idyllic images and pushing you away in reality. I'm attempting to let things happen, follow my gut (thanks, Carney), exclusive of my tongue and brain and overwhelming sentimentality.
I'm going to forgo wading and dive in headfirst.
Here's to connecting my head to my heart to my mouth and attempting to reconcile the conflicting emotions flashing from core to stage.
Oddly, I know that, in the end, he'll end up being the best and closest friend I'll have.
And the soundtrack to my summer.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Spitting Games
eff this. i'm posting it. (august 9, 2008)
note the nu-loving. fantastic, j-mac.
somewhere between all our laughs, long talks, stupid little fights, and all our jokes,
i fell in love
It's funny that, as everything changes, a part of me is yearning for some aspects to just... stay.
I'm Northwestern-bound in the fall. I never quite vocalized that entirely. I'm actually rather thrilled regarding it. I'm enrolling in Medill, the most prestigious j-school in the country, and I'm finally finding myself content in my decision. I'm getting by with a little help from my friends, and the words of wisdom, consolation, and convincing from J-Mac and Plum Cake are helping more than I can convey in this pithy excuse for reality written at six to four on a Sunday morning.
I'm waiting patiently for your name to flash, for the alert that you're thinking of me.
It's happened every other night, but, somehow, I know tonight things will change.
I love that look that you give me. It's petty, but I know somehow it's just for me. And the way that sometimes you press your forehead against mine. The way our legs or elbows or knees touch, mine trembling and yours sturdy, stable, you never flinching. I love how you smile at me, that toothy grin, your right eye squeezed tighter than the left. I love your phone calls, our late nights, the fact that, through it all, you're thinking of me.
Little ol' me.
I fell in love with you over buzzer systems and drag and lipsticked kisses. I gave you my heart amidst strawberry milkshakes and Baseball Tonight, and I lost myself in your eyes of blue (I could barely take my mind off you).
Three AM curiosities, insistences on Malcolm and Wonder Showzen.
Do you know how special you are? To me, at least?
The way you make my heart pitter-patter faster and slower all at once?
You're what I want to change. The only thing. And, it's not even you, persay, but our situation, our circumstances; I want things to "be different," like they would be. I want time to stop so I can have even mere moments of your consciousness. Because I love the way I love you.
I am in love with swirls and colors and the inability to speak.
When you are around.
I am in love with your emotional roadtrip.
And I am in love with mine.
Pick me, choose me, love me.
I said I couldn't say it.
But I just did.
Please let it mean something.
note the nu-loving. fantastic, j-mac.
somewhere between all our laughs, long talks, stupid little fights, and all our jokes,
i fell in love
It's funny that, as everything changes, a part of me is yearning for some aspects to just... stay.
I'm Northwestern-bound in the fall. I never quite vocalized that entirely. I'm actually rather thrilled regarding it. I'm enrolling in Medill, the most prestigious j-school in the country, and I'm finally finding myself content in my decision. I'm getting by with a little help from my friends, and the words of wisdom, consolation, and convincing from J-Mac and Plum Cake are helping more than I can convey in this pithy excuse for reality written at six to four on a Sunday morning.
I'm waiting patiently for your name to flash, for the alert that you're thinking of me.
It's happened every other night, but, somehow, I know tonight things will change.
I love that look that you give me. It's petty, but I know somehow it's just for me. And the way that sometimes you press your forehead against mine. The way our legs or elbows or knees touch, mine trembling and yours sturdy, stable, you never flinching. I love how you smile at me, that toothy grin, your right eye squeezed tighter than the left. I love your phone calls, our late nights, the fact that, through it all, you're thinking of me.
Little ol' me.
I fell in love with you over buzzer systems and drag and lipsticked kisses. I gave you my heart amidst strawberry milkshakes and Baseball Tonight, and I lost myself in your eyes of blue (I could barely take my mind off you).
Three AM curiosities, insistences on Malcolm and Wonder Showzen.
Do you know how special you are? To me, at least?
The way you make my heart pitter-patter faster and slower all at once?
You're what I want to change. The only thing. And, it's not even you, persay, but our situation, our circumstances; I want things to "be different," like they would be. I want time to stop so I can have even mere moments of your consciousness. Because I love the way I love you.
I am in love with swirls and colors and the inability to speak.
When you are around.
I am in love with your emotional roadtrip.
And I am in love with mine.
Pick me, choose me, love me.
I said I couldn't say it.
But I just did.
Please let it mean something.
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