I've missed you. Coffee? Tomorrow? Lets reminisce.
-Jul. 30th, 2008
I am a creature of habit.
And I don't think you get that.
you see, I'm romantic.
My emotions are like a hand trick
that is practiced, and practiced.
And I'm not sure if you can handle it.
A rose is always two inches from my fingertips
and a smile just two seconds from my lips.
I am a lover and I cannot fight it
And I want you to want me to want you to want it
Not "it" like the thing teenagers do to get pregnant
But "it" like something soul crushingly heart wrenchingly
Mind blowingly important.
"IT" is my love. Ya know, that plant you water with silence?
The thing which thirsts for your kindness?
And in hind-sight I'd rather grow with sunlight
something I can depend on that runs on a time line
Instead I'm growing in a pot feasting on turpentine
Hoping for a melody to make my time fly.
"IT" is my heart. Ya know, that thing that beats oh-so steadily?
That disease for which you do not know the remedy
EVEN THOUGH I have given you the recipe
and again and again and again you show me that 20-20
is necessary when you stand so far away from me, emotionally.
But hey, maybe its me.
I mean, it's not so irrational baby
to think I am the one that made you crazy
Maybe? Yah. Maybe.
Maaaybe its my arms around you that make you so impatient,
Maaaybe its the fact that I call when I know I'm running late,
Maaaybe its how I listen when you talk or how I know your taste,
I guess, being realistic, it could be the way I open the door
or the way I put up with being ignored or the way I ask you if you want more
or the way I make sure everything is going to be okay If I spend the day away
or the way I try to show you I love you because you don't believe a word I say.
Or maaaybe, and this is just a hunch, you use drama as a crutch.
"what would we talk about if we didn't fight?"
I think we'd talk about tigers or the movie showing that night
"I would be to vulnerable if I was happy all the time"
I think letting me make you happy is not, if anything, a crime
"It would be too boring if we weren't screaming.."
Hunny, let me tell you something, if we keep screaming, I'm leaving.
Not because I don't love you and not because I lost interest
Well, thats not entirely being honest.
I lost interest in being your "end of the day" closet
Where everything you've gone through comes out at me
through glares and scoffs and words so deadly.
You have me blogging to no one, hell, maybe I am crazy.
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