Sunday, December 23, 2012

I will stay up late
Directing my talents towards infomercials
Not wanting to rest
But not really challenging myself either
I could learn another language
If I tried really hard
I could pursue a career
If I learn to finish things
Buckle down
Settle down
Tie something down and make it mine
Time to pack my own lunch
I don't want to just fall asleep early
I want to proudly pass out
But have enough energy for myself sometimes
Some kind of balance
Because im not very good at that (balance)
I'm extreme in all kinds of ways
Except when relating to productive things
Responsible things
I'm not extremely organized
Or neat
But I have an extreme emotional spectrum
Extreme thought
Three beers and I'm gone- extreme
Now if I could just lend these out of hand qualities
to the ones I should have in my hands
Then I would be perfectly boring and acceptable
I would enjoy a predictable day and mood
I would be pleasant but never really I've been through hell happy
I made it out alive happy

I feel when someone doesn't really like me-or maybe in some cases I'm just paranoid & weird because I tend to be like that. I feel a need to make this person like me even if I don't like them. Even if I really don't like them. I think I fight this urge on the outside because I want to seem cool. On the inside I'm still a little girl-like back when my mom used to make my clothes for me. I was happy to wear them, they had really cute patterns, fabric, & daring styles. There was a top she made for me with a sort of open back, like an H shape & I rocked it like I rocked my Mickey Mouse lunch box. I remember sitting by myself & a couple of older girls came up to me & one of them asked why my back was showing & why I was wearing something so weird. Well I hadn't really thought about it that way. Now I'm thinking about it that way. Oh my god do I look weird? Suddenly I'm very self conscious about my back. Should I put on my jacket? Then I just thought to myself, "Those bitches," but in my first grade mind it was probably "Those girls are mean. I like my clothes." That's one of those kind of sad moments when you start to give a fuck about what people think but then you comfort yourself into thinking it doesn't matter. As you get older the insults get more complex. At least with young children they're assholes outright. When I was a little bit older I remember meeting this girl Katie, who was richer than any of us children could understand or imagine. She made me feel less than wonderful, but she wasn't exactly straight up mean to me. She threw a big birthday party in her big pool in her big house & there was a big list of people invited & I wasn't on it. It seemed like the whole class was invited, even my dad heard about this party. I told him I didn't think I was invited & he said "Oh come on, sure you are! There are so many people going!" Thanks for believing in me dad, really. He assumed I was invited so he took me over there. I gawked at the size of everything like everyone else. As I was still taking in the sight of her "house," Katie came up to me & immediately said "Oh. I didnt invite you. But it's okay 'cause you're funny." What a complimentary bitch. I love to make people laugh though, even bitches. Humor gets me into big houses & pools. Humor gets me through a day that otherwise would have slapped me in the face or insulted my clothes.

.Laura Curren.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

When I feel a storm of fire
Rushing to the crease of me
I'm opened up with feverish thoughts,
& can only slide open from within.
Imagine bolts not coming loose,
but melting away for the moment.
Maybe alcohol helps all this,
But the promise of more than skin
Spreads my insecurities thin,
Spreads them as if they were harmless,
As if I could just swallow them down,
Quiet them down in the pit of me,
& if there is any lingering doubt on my tongue,
It's swept over, softly at first,
Like waves that climb slowly over each other,
Coursing together,
Moving to a flow that is inherently known,
A smooth dance rising to ferocity,
In which touch speaks for me.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

I have seen in her eyes
a fury I remember from my own
and when the heart feels possessed
by the way someone else moves, speaks, and thinks
you will find strings tied around you.
So I tell her,
"Surely you did not always feel like this,
there was a time before,
a time when you never thought it could be,
a time when you were wrong,
because the future had not yet come.
Now remember those feelings
and apply them presently.
I know its fresh and seems that it cant be put out,
but oh the heart is a marvelous traveller
that sees and picks up on things as it goes.
It is slow, its true but this is only
to appreciate a more beautiful view.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

I get
you watch
a tear
roll out.
I turn
to the edge
of the bed,
I turn
my head.
You pause,
you cling
to me,
lung to lung,
branches of your limbs
over me.
No words,
just your body,
saying sorry,
please let me back in.

I want to know how
to make love personified,
magic in your eyes.

I can uncover 
the doubts you left over the
better parts of you.
I can sit with you
when your mind is restless &
your heart is tired.
But I want to hear 
your laughter more than most things,
the song I repeat.
I want to cut the 
weeds squeezing your heart, not for
flowers, but to see,
to see everything;
skies holding our ideas,
oceans of feelings. 
I know you aren't all
beautiful. Pollution does
not discriminate.
But you holding me
feels like clarity in this
convoluted life.

Haiku 57 .Laura Curren.

Please don't punish me 
for faults you've hidden from me. 
If it's real, I'll see. 

I'm going to take any insults I've held on to
& throw them down a well that I close. They don't 
disappear but they starve for attention. 
I show them I power my thoughts into actions, 
I let in light. The language I choose to keep, 
the words I choose to hear in my head affect me 
in profound ways. I need to treat myself as a friend. 
If I wouldn't say what I say to myself to anyone else, 
I should reconsider the messages. & if I feel as though I'm neglecting myself, I need to remember me. 
I should be more loving to myself 
& more curious
like I want to  
impress myself. 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Well said Jada.

Jada Pinkett-Smith: “The War on Men Through the Degradation of Woman” - "How is man to recognize his full self, his full power through the eye’s of an incomplet
e woman? The woman who has been stripped of Goddess recognition and diminished to a big ass and full breast for physical comfort only. The woman who has been silenced so she may forget her spiritual essence because her words stir too much thought outside of the pleasure space. The woman who has been diminished to covering all that rots inside of her with weaves and red bottom shoes.

I am sure the men, who restructured our societies from cultures that honored woman, had no idea of the outcome. They had no idea that eventually, even men would render themselves empty and longing for meaning, depth and connection.

There is a deep sadness when I witness a man that can’t recognize the emptiness he feels when he objectifies himself as a bank and truly believes he can buy love with things and status. It is painful to witness the betrayal when a woman takes him up on that offer.

He doesn’t recognize that the [creation] of a half woman has contributed to his repressed anger and frustration of feeling he is not enough. He then may love no woman or keep many half women as his prize.

He doesn’t recognize that it’s his submersion in the imbalanced warrior culture, where violence is the means of getting respect and power, as the reason he can break the face of the woman who bore him 4 four children.

When woman is lost, so is man. The truth is, woman is the window to a man’s heart and a man’s heart is the gateway to his soul.

Power and control will NEVER out weigh love.

May we all find our way.

~ Jada Pinkett-Smith, Sinuous Magazine (

1+2+2+0+1+9+8+7=30, 3+0=3

People with a Life Path number 3 have a very high level of creativity and self expression. This abundance of creative energy, and the ease with which they are able to communicate in all areas, both written word and verbal, could lead them to become a poet, actor, writer, artist or musician. In fact many writers, radio broadcasters, actors, singers, performers, and counselors share this life path number. 

Threes are optimistic, extremely generous and giving souls, and are able to find positive in everything around them. People like to be around them, not only because of these qualities, but also because Threes have a charismatic personality, are great listeners and are very conscious of other people's feelings and emotions. They can easily put the people around them at ease and make them feel comfortable. 

Because they enjoy living life to the fullest, Threes tend to live life for today and not worry about tomorrow. They have a hard time taking responsibilities seriously, and probably aren't very good with money, partly because they feel so positive about life they figure everything will work itself out fine. This can sometimes lead those with a Life Path of 3 to live superficially, have a lack of direction in their life, and procrastinate.

When they are hurt emotionally, Threes tend to withdraw and become moody, and can sometimes make biting comments to lash out at people around them. They can be manic depressive if they do not use their creative energy and tend to exaggerate the truth. 

Life path number 3 is a strong vibration, one of creative self expression, independence, playfulness, and communication. Below are some key points you might want to take into consideration to help you on your path … 

You have to be who you are. You are a joyful spirit, and probably talented, witty and charming. Don't settle for the superficial, but use those qualities as ways to dive deeper into your own soul. 

There is a remote side to your 3 Life Path, as well. This comes as a surprise to the native and to those who think they are well acquainted. The 3 is actually a very sensitive soul. When hurt, you can easily retreat to a shell of morose silence for extended periods. Nonetheless, the 3 eventually copes with all of the many setbacks that occur in life and readily bounces back for more. It is usually easy for you to deal with problems because you can freely admit the existence of problems without letting them get you down for too long. Because of your own sensitivity to hurt, you have a caring disposition and seem to be very conscious of other people's feelings and emotions.

Your big test with a 3 Life Path is controlling your highs and lows. You won't survive very well in any routine environment or when you are placed under dominating management. Slow thinking and overly contemplative people tend to frustrate you, and you don't function too well with this type whether you are working for, with, or under them. Your exuberant nature can take you far, especially if you are ever able to focus your energies and talents.
For the few living on the negative side of this Life Path, a 3 may be so delighted with the joy of living that the life becomes frivolous and superficial. You may scatter your abilities and express little sense of purpose. The 3 can be an enigma, for no apparent reason you may become moody and tend to retreat. Escapist tendencies are not uncommon with the 3 life path, and you find it very hard to settle into one place or one position. Guard against being critical of others, impatient, intolerant, or overly optimistic.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

bringing it back because I'm reading it at the wedding this weekend ahh!

I stand before all the love I've known in my life and it's you who I choose,
The day we met was the first chapter of something beautiful I've read before,
But its your version that I truly adore,
Something I read before I go to sleep and when I wake up
Something beautiful that I just cant put down,
It's your words that carry me through my days,
But you are more than words, you are love in tangible form,
You make romance real, something I can touch for all my remaining days,
Something I can breathe and taste,
You are the love I've collected and saved,
You are the love that started in the back of my mind,
The love I had always hoped would surface,
You bring it out of me, you let it rest in my thoughts
You make it move, you make it speak,
& never is it still or silent as long as I am with you,
For as long as I am.

Even the strong can't resist it.
I've seen cold and closed off,
spark and unpeel
& leave flowers and notes.
I've seen the stern and stubborn
waiting for someone.
Even napoleon wrote beautiful letters to Josephine.
No shield, spear, gun, briefcase, position, age, or perspective
can protect you from it.


I remember my mom saying to me that one of the "tests" in a relationship is how you handle the other person being sick. I asked her in greater detail and saw her mind travel back to the time of the story she was about to tell me," I remember I was going out with this guy for awhile and I got really sick. I mean so sick that I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't do anything. I would ask him for something and it was like he didn't want to or he didn't have the time. Eventually I had to call my friend so she could get me some groceries and take care of me. That's when I knew I didn't really want to be with him." Maybe I'm a big baby because I expect the treatment my mother gave me when I was a little girl. I used to have a colorful cassette player that had an obnoxious microphone attached to it. I would then put this microphone to work, "Mommmmm, can you bring me some soup please?" and she would. She would sweep her hand over my burning hot forehead and watch terrible lifetime movies with me and bring me hot chocolate. She made it a point not to let me go back to school until I was completely better. This also included fun events such as birthday parties, field trips, and sleep overs. Mom knew there was a white blood cell battle going on inside me, she knew that because of this battle my skin was firing up, my nerves were squeezing in response, that kleenex and generally yummy and soothing things were in demand. Don't try and "be strong" was the message she gave me, that's stupid-just rest and get better or it'll get worse. I like your style, mom.
     I remember one time you were sick. I can't remember how far into the relationship it was, but you told me you weren't feeling well and we were supposed to go have dinner at my brother Matt and his fiance (soon wife! hi Amy! :)Amy's place. I told my mom you were sick, um because we were living there and I tell her pretty much everything. Matt and Amy came over for a surprise visit and we were both downstairs in our room. They called down the stairs to us asking about dinner that night when my mom interjected and yelled out from her bedroom that you were sick. "Ohhh, yeah we heard you were sick are you okay?" Matt and Amy said with a disappointed but sympathetic tone. Alarmingly, to me anyway, this really upset you. "God damn, I'm sick, not useless!"
Baffled by this response I said, "Whoa....I didn't say you were useless...I just knew you weren't feeling good and figured you didn't want to go out."
      "Well you're telling everybody that I'm sick and can't do anything and I feel useless," you snapped back. So we argued about (?) the fact that you felt useless and I didn't think it was a big deal while my brother and Amy awkwardly waited on the stairs and heard this dispute. So they mentioned we could have dinner there another time and climbed back up the stairs. This is when I pulled you aside and said, "You need to be nicer!"
"Okayyy Bones (your nickname for me, don't ask me to explain because I'm not even sure) and you rolled your eyes.
Well rolling eyes just mean rolling words from my rolling tongue to you, "No, you need to be nicer. They were asking if you're okay because they care. My family is very loving and sensitive -when someone is sick we take care of them! You were being a dick. Arguing right in front of my brother and his girlfriend like that-no, just accept their kindness. Don't say shit like you feel useless. That's not what I or we are trying to make you feel like. That's your own damn fault if you feel like that. We just want to care of you, so let us!"
"Okay, I'm sorry Laura Bones." It was a simple apology but I believed you because then you looked like you realized what I had said and it began to sink in. Then you wrapped your arms around my waist and rested your head onto my lap. I started stroking your hair. Yes, shut up and let me take care of you.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

We're always full of words,
but when we see each other
they evaporate in the air,
they fall back behind our tongues.
Nerves get tangled in reality,
they get awkward and sweaty,
so we both swallow pills
and the words unfold.
The chemicals dissolve
and stir up what hasn't been said.
Love melting on our tongues,
I tell you everything.
You tell me I'm the one you wanna tell it to.
We kiss a chemical kiss.
We feel alive in chemical bliss,
but you know this isn't all illegal.
This isn't all because I made a deal.
There's real behind this.
Theres real in your eyes and mine.
Real when we wake up,
real when the exciting storm has left.
Large pupils, large hearts
bright eyes, bright fires,
look how pretty the flames are

Captures a fervent, whirlwind of a romance that becomes as chaotic and explosive as it once was exciting. and you know if you just like Rihanna, then whatever that's cool too.

Thursday, November 8, 2012


A title is difficult to think of,
A title puts a face to cloudy thoughts,
But a title could be hard to grasp
and could make a face blurry.
In some cases introductions are inappropriate
and dictating words make me unimaginative.
Words for colors may also seem stiff,
I'd like to figure it out for myself
I'd like to say this is what I think it is
I call this that, and that this!
I guess titles can be illuminating though,
when you're unsure of what to build in your mind,
a something without a noun name tag.
Maybe I like to be unsure,
Except of course if I really like you,
& you don't ask me, you just mention
because that's just how it happened,
that I'm yours.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012


Why I Quit

I knew this situation was not going to work
when we started discussing relationships.
Sometimes you're the one who desperately likes the other
but no matter how charming and pretty you paint yourself to be,
they just dont see it,
it being everything you have to offer.
Ouch, sorry.
Other times there's someone who desperately wants you
[to see the it that they have to offer]
& no matter how smart and funny your friends say he/she is,
you just don't see the sexiness.
So I told you about a guy who really tried to show me how sexy he was
but all I could see was a friendly face.
I told you he had all the qualities I valued
but I just couldn't find the lust.
So then you told me about a guy
who really, really liked you.
You said that the fact he went to school turned you on,
BUT he drove this really beat up Corolla,
and just couldn't let it go,
and that really turned you off.
Now I am mentally rolling my eyes
and of course I imagine my old Corolla,
rest in pieces,
the one I drove from the time I was 16 (for almost 9 years)
and yes it had its fair share of fights
"beat up" you could say,
beaten with dents and scrapes
and sex in the back and front seats
and then I took little 'Olla to the snow one day
a place it was not used to
a place where I drove like an idiot
and a mountain punched 'Olla in the face
and a boulder ripped open its stomach
and it bled black everywhere
but this was MY car,
this was the one I had been driving for so long,
that I learned to drive in.
I lost my driving virginity to this car.
This is my first and I love it.
Despite her years and miles and scratches,
despite the fact that after the snowy mountain assault
she couldn't go in reverse,
I kept driving.
I would park in bizarre places so I wouldn't have to reverse,
up a hill, pulled forward, way down the street.
I would put it in neutral, turn it off and then
push with my left leg hanging out of my door
to move out of the gas station.
I did this dangerously, stupidly, for a few months
because I couldn't let her go.
Then a police officer pulled me over
and told me I had to let her go.
I cried watching my car loading onto the tow truck.
I cried and called my friend to pick me up.
So if that whole story to you was a turn off,
then I don't want to be around you anyway.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Monday, October 29, 2012

3 summers ago

I was on the plane by myself. I felt excited to be traveling by myself. Kaity gave me a ride to the airport. First she took me to the wrong one (SFO) but then we were back on track (Oakland). I was also nervous because I hid some weed in an altoids tin and brought it with me. I passed airport security. Yes! I boarded the plane and then the anticipation began. I watched all of the swarm of firefly lights of the bay area slowly turn into scattered polka dots as the land stretched out flat and wide before me, underneath me. I was above the changing states, I was in a changing state, mentally, physically, so many possibilities. I never thought I'd be in Kansas. These are the kind of surprises in life that I love. If I was told a year before I would be there I would be completely puzzled. I arrive in the smallest airport I've ever seen. Hello? Hello Wichita. I wait. You and your father arrive and my energy is still in the mountains though we are on the plains. We haven't touched yet because I put all my bags in the car right away and shuffle into the backseat. I want to wait before we hug or anything else because it's all been too much, there's too much energy contained in me and I want to save it for when all my baggage is on your floor, when I can really hold you and not abruptly stop to get the car. So your father drives, and I sit behind you. But even then we can't resist and  begin to hold hands through the crack of the door and the seat. Not just a grip, but really feeling each others hands because it's been awhile. Feeling the curves of your knuckles, the lines on our palms merging paths. our hands needed to meet again. especially since we can't face each other in this moment it's as if our hands are doing it for us. Kissing hands. All the while lightning bugs are smashing themselves against the window, exploding into the glass like oozing glowing fireworks. Lovely romantic sacrifices.

Monday, October 22, 2012

One of the more romantic moments in my life happened around this time last year. I had spent a few days in Tahoe with you. Wonderful days filled with smoke and sex and smokey sex, hikes up a rocky dry ski slope, homemade chili you cooked up for me, the first snowfall of the season. I was in a rush, like always. I was racing back to my work. I was still hosting then so I was wearing an attractive business casual outfit with terrible, paper-thin flats. I should have left earlier but I wanted to be with you longer of course. I was used to the drive up the long winding mountain roads by now so I figured I could speed up. No. The snow was beautiful yes, and I beautifully slid out of control coming around a curve. My corolla swerved dramatically into the side of the mountain. If there wasn't a snow bank there I would have been in much worse shape. I don't like to think about it. Well shit! My little rabbit heart is beating and im stuck in some snow. A long black trail bleeds behind me. My car has been wounded, badly. A lovely kind man in his pickup truck sees me tucked into this snowy mountain side and he helps direct me to a safer stop where I call you right away. My little thin as fuck flats are mushy and wet. My toes are freezing. My hands are pink and icy. You answer, I knew you would. I love you. We said this already, but goodness do I love you more now. Help! I'm stuck. I crashed my car. I know you told me to be careful, but, I'm not. You tell me you'll be there, I know you will. We hug right away. Glad you're okay. Oh man, that looks bad. You point to the boulder my car skid over, and consequently the nasty scar it created underneath it. It's the transmission you tell me, and I have no idea what you're really saying but you tell me you'll fix it. We wait for a tow truck in my car. We huddle together and I pull out my favorite poetry book. We read to each other. Poems fall from our lips and snow falls outside. I never thought I would enjoy this moment so much, but you're here, waiting with me, waiting for things to get better, to be fixed.


I don't know what
but I know why
and the why is because
I want to love
I want to help people know how to love
so they can feel it for themselves
I don't want to take my efforts
and shove them into narrow spaces to file away
I don't want to sit down
in so many ways.
I want to move
mentally, physically
I want to be here in the present
hugging my life until it gasps
and remembers it's alive,
as a life should remember.
I want to kick down the walls of this cubicle
and see without measure.
I can't help but build fears with the years,
but my judgement has softened,
I understand so many more things.
I understand my eyes through another's.
I understand the pain I have given and received.
I understand that I may feel differently in a year.
My mood changes so much and sometimes it can affect my whole day
and that particular day could affect my whole life or someone's else's.
Sometimes I almost envy people who can only see in black and white,
because it must be easy,
it must be nice to have a mind so simple.
Love comes in many colors.
Many complexities.
It can be dark, it's true...
but richer colors arent without their hues.
I happen to like a stormy day.
I happen to find theyre more beautiful and true than a bird chirping blue.
I feel as though my thoughts collect into the clouds.
They swell and shift and almoggst burst.
They scatter and alert me of change,
a sudden realization like a drop of rain upon your face,
"Oh." you say to yourself.

Here are my honest feelings. Yes I was surprised to receive a message from you, but excited. I could pretend I wasn't but I said I would be honest. Our relationship was fresh, it felt good. then it became very muddy. Amidst the mud it still fed a craving. It was romantic and exciting. I fought for you, you fought for me, as two flames are prone to do. I think there were battles hidden inside of us and we didn't know how to share them. As easy and natural as it was to be with each other, to have fun, it was harder to communicate what was going on inside. I'm not sure either of us even knew what was going on within ourselves at the time. Even now, I'm writing this indirectly to you because when I write it directly to you I stumble around with my words even more and you misinterpret what I say. I don't know why that is. I appreciate you reaching out I guess, or actually I don't really know if I appreciate it. It affected me more than I'd like to admit when I saw you were with someone else. I thought I was completely apathetic about everything. I already found love again. But feelings are always complicated in the way that they change. These days I feel like finding the love of my life would be finding someone who would enjoy the emotional roller coaster I have to offer, and would not want to leave despite being thrown around on it. I feel flat when we exchange how are you doing messages to each other because we're so beyond that but then again what else do you say...can I say? Life is always interesting to me. So if you ask me how I am, I'll just say I'm interested in life. I start many projects without finishing them. School, work, ideas, goals...I want to be able to finish what I've be the person who does that. I don't think I was that person when I knew you. So many things can change! I don't want to chase happiness, I want to cultivate it by doing (and finishing) what I want to do and living my life this way. I have created my own chaos lately, but overall, I'm very lucky to be where I am. I hope you feel that way too.


Summer is sexy, but winter is romantic.

college years

I'm shy for awhile. I hide in my room.
My friends find me & say, "Come out
& play scared little bud,
blossom in these years of youth."
& I say okay.
I try new faces,
energy drinks,
I drink them all in.
I fall asleep on top of books
I fall asleep on top of people.
Is that slutty?
No, you're young, it's college.
Whatever. I'm a creative writer
I'm a creative excuse maker.
I'm almost always late,
unless it's my Shakespeare class
with the brilliant & terrifying teacher
reciting words said centuries ago,
Beautiful words that can die in apathy
if they aren't beating in the hearts of those sleepy students.
I'm hired but my heart is beating for something.
I'm curious. I fuck up.
I fulfill requirements.
My heart breaks
& I hurt someone else's with its edges.
I lose friends, I make friends.
I make out with friends.
I drink too much.
I say too much.
I am too much.
I feel depressed.
I medicate.
Nah, I'm fine.
I unmedicate.
I write some bad papers,
I go on some bad dates.
I fall in love with my ideas of love.
I raise my hand to be polite
&aepresent my ideas.
I get nervous when everyone turns to look at me
Unless I look pretty cute that day,
Which very much depends on if I'm wearing sweatpants
& what time I woke up.
Sometimes I don't wake up.
I enjoy a guilty day off
Because I decide my schedule and laziness.
I get jealous of responsible people.
I get thai food across the street every week.
I get lonely.
I'm intrigued
By the world I'm still a little too shy towards.
I'm becoming aware,
I'm realizing my potential,
But I fold it in half
& save it for later.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

How lucky am I to have been in love so many times already? I have a long ways to go, but I'm impressed that so much has happened before my 25th year. I feel a mixing tide of feelings. I know I have so much more to do but I keep reminding myself how incredibly fortunate I am to be where I am. Alive. Feeling. I'm so restless I forget to see what it is I have or have had. I'm learning so much. So much! It's hard to process all of it. Sometimes grief revisits you in waves. I have a hard time letting go. I feel myself be so closed off sometimes yet other times I feel like my heart is so big it will crush me.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Wednesday, October 10, 2012


My mom came home with you one day. "Oh god" my dad said rolling his eyes, but then started laughing. Laughing because when my mom really wants something and my dad says "no," "no" suddenly starts to sound like maybe which eventually becomes "yes." The wish list becomes the "well I already bought it so don't worry about it" list. But that's okay. My dad does this to her too, i.e. buying an ancient lamp that costed a small fortune. and how can my dad really say no when this dog is looking up at him with troubled amber eyes relieved of a prompt execution.  So I saw you timidly walking down the steps to your new life. I gave you a tour and you gave me uncertain looks.

You were a funny looking beast. Fat and white with orangey spots, eyes that were outlined black and an orange tail dipped in black at the tip. I called you cow. Nicknames come with affection. As soon as you relaxed and these strange smells became familiar and secure we learned you could be fiercely loyal to us. Your previous owners just dumped you outside of a shelter in a basket. How could you not grit your teeth at anyone who approached us, we rescued you! It wasn't just other people though, it was when my family and I hugged, patted, played, more than softly touched. You cried out as though you feared an impending crisis in every embrace. "Mirus! It's okay, dog, it's okay!" we would say to you. We would pet you. "Calm down, dog." Soothing words helped temporarily but there was no hope of introducing you to others. Everyone was threatening to you, except for us of course. I imagined you grew up in a violent home where people do not hug. A home where a raised voice always meant something frightening. "What have you seen Cow?" I would ask you, but you could not tell me.

I knew the neighbors hated you. Your bark was sharp and ever present. You wanted to fucking kill the UPS man. You were suspicious of my friends, my grandma, even tiny children. You could be coaxed with treats sometimes but you would actually growl while chewing them, which was also kind of impressive. Some outsiders earned small bouts of trust but that would be forgotten after awhile. When we took you somewhere in the car you would stick your head out of the window and growl at people outside no matter what speed your snarled lips were flapping. I knew you meant well, but people who were nearly bitten by you did not understand this. You can't tell a parent who watches their small child almost get attacked by your dog- that your dog really is a big sweetheart inside, that he means well. When there was the unfortunate opportunity for you to escape- the gate was left open, a hole was dug, a fear grew in my eyes, a fear like the one I saw in your eyes when someone new came to the door. This happened a few times, and one time a very alarmed and angry father came to the door and told my mother how close your teeth were to his son's skin. I then thought of a story my mother told me about my brother being two years old and in the face of a large menacing dog. "I would have killed that dog if I had to," she said very solemnly to me. You could have killed that boy, Cow. You could have been killed too. My mom made a difficult decision after this incident. You couldn't escape anymore. We loved you, but parents love their children too. My mother understood this protective love very clearly. "I would have killed that dog" the words echoed in my head. So one day when I was in San Jose living my college life my mother called me and told me she had decided you could not exist in this world anymore because you were dangerous. You thought everyone else was the enemy and you had become one in defense. I burst into tears. "How can you take away my dog?" I cried angrily. I knew the logic in her decision but I was angry. I was an hour away from home and you were scheduled to die in 2 hours. Interestingly those were the circumstances in which we first met you and took you into our home. You were supposed to die the day before but we saved you. We ended you. My friend drove me home, a quietly intense drive. I ran down the steps to my childhood home and threw my arms around your orange spots and sobbed into your fur. "My cow" I kept crying, and despite the circumstances, I laughed at this nickname I gave you and how happy you were to respond to it. It was time to go. You sat in my lap, much too big for it, but I wanted you there. The last time you would be there. You whined before we even went inside the clinic. You had a sense. There was a heaviness in the air. You smelled the fear. You tried to crawl up onto my mom's lap. You were seeking protection there, you knew something was not right. You knew and we knew. We falsely assured you and scratched your ears. "It's okay, dog, it's okay." Your eyes were pulling at us for help but we could not help. We watched an instrument of your end slide into your leg and your spots sank into the floor. We lay next to you for awhile, talking to you still. Time to go. It's okay dog, it's okay. Even during the car ride back, I still expected to see you waiting for us at home.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

I'm so tired all the time. I hate how much red bull I buy. My day "off" is when I only work at 1 job. I may explode. I'm already hard to talk to and spend time with. I don't know if I should keep pushing through with this. I don't want to give up but I don't want to be miserable, because I have been. Some days I feel this welling frustration and I either want to snap or cry. I don't want the brunt of this to be directed at the people I love. I wish I could do it all. I don't know if I'm made to multitask. I remember my friend reading a study about how people who were considered multi taskers were also more commonly depressed. She said she didn't understand why but I said maybe it's because they can never fully devote themselves to a single task at hand, they can't enjoy something completely because they are also focusing on something else. I'm trying to become more responsible...but I owe it to myself to have a day off, to enjoy what is going on around me completely, to be with people I love and want to be with. I don't know how much more I can take. It's my own damn fault for creating this suffocating schedule. I find solace in a 2 hour gap between jobs where I just eat and try and tune out my thoughts for a few minutes before knowing I will be working late moving around with heavy drinks and big plates of food, trying to stay quick and smiling, walking an average of 4 miles. I'll be up early in the morning trying to keep a smile and a clean organized desk (clean and organized are words that typically arent featured in descriptions of me) while patients come and go every 10 minutes and I struggle to complete all the tasks in my shift while my manager reminds me that I need to speed up. I don't want to be disappointing but I don't want to wonder about what or who I've been missing. Life goes on. I feel myself slipping away. I don't doubt I'll come back though. Something has to change. I have to change. I also have to go to sleep and wake up early. Take off my hat to put on a different one. Where's the wonder woman hat. Even wonder woman needs sleep and day off. I bet she would still get shit done though. It's kinda sad I dont want to exert much energy when there is a rare day off aka day with only 1 job. Talking aobut this makes me tired. Good night! Good morning. Ask the girl behind the front desk how she's doing then give that waitress at dinner a really nice tip for working hard.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

20 year old heart

        I was lonely in San Jose. Lost in my own apartment. Wanting to socialize but not wanting to socialize. I didn't like to cook, which meant I would rarely step out of my room. I didn't like to talk to my room mates. I wanted to make friends without having to make them. I just wanted them to be. Come find me, even though I'm isolating myself here in this stuffy third floor bedroom with my microwaved dinner. I took and still take so long to warm up to people unless there really is a chemistry to us. I wanted someone. I wanted something. Not the best circumstances for love, I understand, but hey, it happened. Since I do take awhile to "warm up", since I am shy and distant, I found you on the internet. Facebook is great for stalking people who you don't even know. I knew you weren't a closet internet monster because I saw we had the same friends. This was confirmed by pictures and comments and I was intrigued by those pictures and comments. I wasn't sure if I found you attractive at first, but I somehow kept ending up looking at your photo. It was so silly too because it wasn't even completely you, I mean it was a funny photo that one of our mutual friends had cropped your head onto. Even as a floating head I found you intriguing. Where does that head like to go, whats that head thinking inside of it? I sound crazy, and I am a little bit. I am fascinated by people. Yet scared of them all the same. So I friend requested you- the equivalent of sliding a hand onto one's thigh internetly speaking. I'm gonna try this and if you like this, you accept okay? Well you might accept and then ignore it, but let's see shall we? So I did. You accepted.

       One day I saw your name pop up in the facebook chat. Heeeyyyyy why not? We started talking. Months of loneliness had me brimmed with witty quips I needed to unload on someone. It was almost too much, but we ended up talking for a couple hours right away. It was fun! It ate up my time, and it was delicious. That sentence made me feel cheesy. I felt cheesy. Dont get too excited! I said in my head. Don't scare him away like the last guy. Well, that guy had issues, I tell myself. So every day I had something to look forward to, you in a little box. I looked at your pictures and your interests listed before me on a screen and I formed you in my mind. We kept talking, hours a day. Then we texted all throughout the day, yet I think we were both afraid to hear each others voice. So we never spoke but we definitely talked. Hmmm. Your birthday was coming up and we unofficially decided this was when we would meet because you were going to have a party with your friends and yes, I was invited too. It was a few weeks away and I was really excited. I got drunk at a party and texted you about how excited I was. I have a hard time holding back when I'm sober, let alone when I'm filled with an unfamiliar combination of artificial colors and liquors. You texted me back saying something like "Lets not get too ahead of ourselves, we don't want to get too excited." I felt like a drunk deflated balloon. Don't scare him away like the last guy. But you assured me you were happy to meet me too, just cautious.

      So it came to be the the week before your party and I was ready for it. It felt very far away. I was about to go out with a friend who had made it clear she wanted to be more than friends (Yeah, I said she) but I wanted to be with you, even though I hadn't even met you yet! I was waiting to get picked up and then I texted you half seriously and said "I just bought a lot of snacks, (can't remember what but lots of grape capri sun for some reason) wanna come over?" You texted me right back. "Is that an invitation Laura? Because I'm seriously considering it." Oh! Whoa. Uh...okay! I told my friend I didn't feel like going out, sorry. I gave you my address. Your phone gave you directions because I suck at giving them. You offered to sleep on the floor if you ended up staying late. I already knew you would not be on the floor. You're with me, silly. Drive safe. Oh my god! Oh dear god my room is disgusting. Clean it right now! So I compiled all my laundry and threw it into the closet. I vacuumed. Fucking vacuumed (that was a big deal then). Threw away all my manifesting school paper snack garbage, made the bed (which was just 2 mattresses stacked on each other and then later pushed together on the floor) and I straightened up my room and made it seem nice. You called me. It was the first time we had heard each other speak. I ran down concrete steps to search for your car. You lifted one arm out the window but didn't come out. I ran to the side window. Too excited, careful. I sat beside you in the passenger seat. You had facial hair that I hadn't seen in your pictures. Interesting, but I still thought you were cute. I began to talk very fast and acted quite squirrelly. Control yourself, you fidgety fuck. I suggest we go to the parking lot underneath my complex to smoke, so I would calm down, mostly. So we did and I was afraid to look in your eyes at first. We sat in veils of smoke and the charged energy of what might be. I invited you upstairs- it didn't seem sleazy, only the natural progression of things. It felt comfortable to ask you to be there. Will you be there? Will you stay here awhile, with me? We watched too many movies, three, I think. I couldn't take it anymore so I just cut you off mid sentence at one point, and kissed you. I had to. I was waiting and I knew you were too. Our lips made sense of each other and all the waiting made it feel right to be so close to you. We fell asleep in each others arms. Excitement turned to peace in our sleep. I knew I could love you. And I did. You left the next day-very late in the day. You were there for awhile, but you couldn't stay.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

So much has happened since you. The hurt has become understanding. It doesn't diminish how deeply it was felt. I know we kind of remain like satellites in each others lives. You know what I mean. I still wonder, maybe you do too but it's different. I hope one day we will know what it means to love someone fully and without underlying selfishness. I think we did at one time but we were both so hurt the first time around we found love. I know you're a good person but don't feel like it all the time. That's where I'm at too. I read your last post. I felt a familiar spark of jealousy but it quickly dissolved because I felt that you deserve this love and happiness. I don't wish you hurt. I know you didn't for me.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

That's my name,
your name
wore it out.
You don't get to
You can't use
that tone
in public
or alone.
I don't need to
hear it
from you.
the titles
and all the
rights down
to your heart.
Taste how
it sounds
one last time.
Time will
digest it.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Change is good...right?

19 year old heart

My palms are sweaty because I can't believe it's you who is sitting beside me. This moment is a dream that I made happen.

A week ago I saw you and claimed you with my eyes, that's the one, I want THAT. That became a name and person I was sitting next to. I was meeting my mom to go grocery shopping, but thank god I was driving separately because it looked much cooler for me to see you the first time in the parking lot sans mom. You were wrangling shopping carts and putting them in their place. Well hello shopping cart cowboy you have some mighty dark and intense eyes from across this parking lot. And you knew I was looking, because you really looked back for an unnecessary length of time. Normally in the past I would have just turned red and averted my gaze out of a delighted bashfulness. But I felt sexy today. My makeup was carefully crafted, as was my tan, I wore little short shorts, and I was driving my car by myself looking so independent (to meet my mom to buy groceries...). I smirked a sexy smirk, a smirk that is telling of a moment of attraction. Hey I see you, I know you see me...let's see each other. So after I parked my car, I noticed the shopping carts were no longer a pressing matter and they remained frightened and lost by parked cars as you quickly ditched them to follow me inside.

But I had to meet up with my mom, oh yeah. My mom is the one who created me after all though, so we do share similar tastes. "Look at that guy, mom. The one with the dark hair and goatee."

"Ooohhhffff.!" Her face contorts and she wedges up her eyebrows as if to say "hot damn!"  "Oh!" she said to me in her animated sing song way. My mom becomes a 19 year old in this moment too as we see you around the store and giggle. So of course when we were done shopping we look to see which line you're bagging groceries in. "There he is!" we indicate to each other with our eyes and smiles. So we're about to move towards you, when the cashier next to us, yells "Next in line over here please!"

Wait, fuck! It's not like my mom and I can say "Oh no, were fine, we're just waiting for this sexy young man over here to bag our groceries." So we both kind of sigh, and move to this other, much less attractive line.  But then! Just as you ditched the shopping carts in the parking ditch your line! Probably not the best work ethic, but you're coming over to me! You want to put my lettuce and milk in a bag! You look really good doing it too. Commence silly smiling again from me and my mom. So now were standing there and you're bagging and looking up from those pretty, thick, lashes and huge hazel eyes. I bite my lip. I bite it because I'm wrestling it from curling up into a stupid grin. For once, I'm glad my mom starts to talk a lot. "Do you like working here?" and then I hear your voice and I decide I like it. I would like this voice to say things to me. You're talking to my mom and looking at me. My mom then strategically leaves because she "forgot something." But oh, the cashier scans a bottle of wine, and um, I look pretty 19 I guess. Shit. I have to call out to my mom to come back. Well now you know I'm not over 21. Feeling less cool, but still kinda hot because you keep looking at me.

So my mom asks about getting me a job there and you (lie and) say it's fun because later on you tell me you just said that so I'd work there. She chit chats you up and down and I look at you up and down. As the last items are being bagged, there is a longing look exchanged but no words because I think either one of us are wondering if these small collected moments within the last 30 minutes are worth pinning down into another possible moment. We both just kind of hold our breath. As I walk away, I look over my shoulder, just one more time at you, and your long eyelashes catch this. You mention later that this was a telling moment for you, had I not done this, you would have remained uncertain. Then I walk away. A little skip in my step and heart.

I felt something here. I felt a produce aisle connection. I think in most of these situations people are supposed to kind of store it in the small private moments vault of their mind, but I was tired of being so patient with people. I had been shy for so long and the last boy I was with pulled on my patience so much that I forgot that love could be fun. So I went a little out of my way. I posted a missed connections for you on craigslist. Hah! It was silly, but I thought why not? You probably won't even see it. And what then? I was just putting it out there. Take from it what you will craigslist universe.

I received an email response back not from you oddly enough, but from a coworker. My Guess Who way of describing you had worked. This 40 something lonely coworker who made it a nighty habit of scrolling through missed connections, I would assume in the hopes that someone would miss him, found my post that described the grocery store meeting of eyes. I was shocked. He said he thought he knew who I was talking about and would tell him the next day. Ummm...okay! Imagine having some moment like this and then your random coworker a couple days later coming up to you and reminding you of the incident because it was published in a small corner of the internet in the hopes that it could be relived again. So then the lonely coworker responded to me again, just to make sure I had the right young man, and it was a tennis match email exchange until I was given my shopping cart cowboy's Myspace information. (remember myspace?)

As if I wasn't stalking you enough, I found your myspace and looked at your pictures and felt undeniable tangles of excitement inside. I clicked to send you a message. "Hi." is all I said.

You replied shortly after. "Hi? That's it? Haha. How's my little stalker? You know I don't usually do this, but if you want to hang out sometime, here's my number."
This is when I got up and let my body be excited and did a victory dance.  Then I texted you, cuz yeah, I got your number. You were impressed and surprised, romanced by my internet gestures. We met later that night. You told me you usually wait to kiss someone, but let's be honest, this encounter could make an exception. We drove to a pretty night view of all the bay and its sparkling lights and you looked at me in such a way that smiled and said "I just can't get over this" and I couldnt either. Here we are. I made it happen, well you played a part too I suppose. We laughed at eachother, happy to be outside of a grocery store and out into a sparkling night, with a sparked blunt and a growing high. We went back to your apartment and you grabbed me and I let myself be grabbed. I folded into your chest. Our lips climbed the walls of passion. It felt poetic and fierce. Sweet too, with a bite. I had been waiting for something like this. It was all a surprise. We felt alive. It was a kiss you don't forget. It was one that felt of gratitude- thank you for finding me, thank you for being here! For lifting me from a sleepy summer. I really felt your arms around me, there was nothing weak about it. There was force and wanting and then a spreading ease. This is just what I want right now. You're just what I need right now. Fresh fire wrapped around each other. I left for home very late that night.

A few days later we would go out again. This song started playing in your car. It was the first time I had heard it.

It felt like a scene from a movie. I watched pictures speed by with golden hills melting behind me. My skin was hot from the sun earlier. I put my sweaty palms down against my tan legs and breathed in, full of 19 year old optimism and excitement.

I was high in all kinds of ways -the illegal kind, the lust kind, the youth kind. You were driving and I didn't have to worry about anything for the duration of this song. I am not controlling the speed of this machine I am sitting in, I have no control of this feeling sweeping over me. I'm smiling a smile that can be felt again when remembering this, oh but never the same, you know. My hair streaked behind me in the wind, leaving behind my hometown for the night, leaving behind my heavy hearted ex boyfriend to wonder, leaving behind insecurities little by little. You are driving fast. I am feeling fast.  Maybe we'll have sex tonight. This hot and sweet summer air has me drunk. You're old enough to buy me a drink if I want and if you want. and you do. This speed and this music and taste of smoke in my mouth has me feeling unbreakable. I feel so fucking cool. You seem so fucking cool. You have an apartment. You drive fast and buy me drinks. You kiss like ive always wanted to kiss. You open up a passion I thought I would not undress again for awhile. You are a reason, but I am the cause of this moment. My heart is free. I'm free to do whatever I want! I will remember this.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


I love that I can get chills by hearing something. That I feel so many sensations in my brain, so many feelings that I don't even know how to process all of them.

I love how the mind and body influence each other in this way.

[It is your parasympathetic nervous system reacting to extremely high stimulation in parts of your brain. 

In other words, when you see that amazing performance, (or hear something emotional) so many parts of your cortex are activated, overloaded with visual stimulation, emotion, and (if you are a performer as well) some subconscious motor cortex reactions. So many things happening at once causes a chain reaction of firing neurons throughout your brain, which can spill into your parasympathetic nervous system, which basically controls your reflexes. (getting goosebumps is a reflex) ]

Saturday, September 8, 2012

fire sign

kinda sucks. just started writing it this morning. it has potential...just like me?

When I was young,
I didnt know it was there.
I always thought
It wasnt.
That's it.
I'm not like that.
I thought passion was a dream.
I was so shy,
Achingly so.
I felt quiet
and underwater.
I read in books and saw in movies
About those looks that people give each other,
Looks that mean more than words,
Looks that say "I want what you have,
Please give it to me."
I felt I would never know this.
I felt carefully contained.
Those who knew me
Knew this wasnt right.
As my ideas started to grow,
It began to too.
It started humble
as sparks of self esteem do.
It started to smoke and be
Hot with confidence.
People want to know me.
People want to care.
People want more of me
That I didnt know was there.
Because this is so new and fresh,
Because this is such a shaking to the shy,
I feel drunk with curiosity.
I want to touch every hot surface.
I want to break hearts and limits,
Have what I never thought I could
Just to have it.
I want to be a pirate of feelings,
To take it all, lust and loyalty,
Drink it down and sigh.
I want to make you laugh so hard it hurts
But I'll keep my distance
In case you cause me pain.
I was so afraid of it before,
But it was always inside,
Just not tendered by me.
I put it in a box,
So I wouldnt fuck it up,
But you can't hide for too long.
I just wanted to feel pretty,
And now I feel chaos.
Now I feel a different fear.
I dont know how to direct it,
This fire inside,
Catching to the trees of my mind.
The innocence of my past
Has turned to black.
I want some of it back.
I've wanted too much,
I can't go back.
I feel out of control,
Out of reach.
All I feel is flames.
Nobody can really touch me.
Nobody can really save me,
Or maybe I'm too shy to ask.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

You're not going to have time;
you're going to be busy being a good person
doing responsible things,
making money & paying bills on time,
reading what you're supposed to.
You're going to be approachable & dependable,
you will complete your tasks,
start projects without being asked.
You will button up your shirts,
you will stand tall as you are,
shave your face & say polite remarks.
You will stay smart
pulling out polished words.
You're not going to have time for my nonsense.
I'm going to be busy being a confused person
doing reckless things,
spending money & being late,
not finishing chapters.
I'm going to be lovingly cold & distant,
I will not finish what I've started,
I will leave without being asked,
I will undress
& I will stand smaller than my potential.
I will shave my legs & cuss,
I will stay confused
speaking words that bump into each other,
but I could love you
if you have the time.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

marilyn monroe

Marilyn, on the other hand, was more vulnerable. This made her a great actress onscreen, in the boardroom and in the bedroom, but she was also more affected by the rough-and-tumble nature of the real world, says Keogh. A “Marilyn” woman falls in love like a teenager would — instantly and wholeheartedly. But afterwards, she might get bored and lose interest just as quickly. Unlike a “Jackie,” the “Marilyn” type is capable of enduring the company of an old beau — even if it’s someone who may have betrayed her. “Having had her heart broken, she understands forgiveness and the vagaries of the human condition,” says Keogh. “However, with her emotional fragility, sometimes a ‘Marilyn’ gal gets overwhelmed by the harshness of the world and can’t get out of bed. Sometimes she drinks a little more than she should, and sometimes she cries. However, because of her open-hearted nature, the world — and, of course, men — love her immensely.

First, a “Marilyn” will generally require a lot of ego stroking due to her emotionally tender nature; and second, nearly every man in the entire world will go after her because she’s such a sexpot.

… she’s got beauty, baggage and all, says Keogh. Interestingly, the type of man who falls for a “Marilyn” is usually happy to do so — 

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

I wanted to make this (poem?) something before it even was.
Sometimes I look for words that I want to be more beautiful than reality,
but you can't dress up a feeling.
You can't curl the truth around your tongue-
it should fall flat from your mouth
and though this may sound rude and abrupt,
it will direct your heart towards deeper possibilities.
You will find something you never thought to look for.
Looking for something while distracted doesn't help you find anything.
In fact you may even forget why you came,
but you do remember, eventually,
when you've forgotten all about it-
it comes to you without transition,
as abrupt as the truth.

So many changes all around me.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012


Today I got hired for a second job. I feel successful. Yay for me!
Then I have this tendency to think about if I'll be good or not or be able to handle all of these duties in the future and I freak myself out. Shut up. Just try. No, just do. See what happens. Maybe you won't like it. Maybe it'll be awesome. Maybe you'll be able to work 2 jobs AND take that class. Stay on top of those bills. Buy those groceries. Clean and cook. Stepping it up. blah blah blah.
I can be so half assed about things or bend to what's expected of me but not feel it whole-heartedly. I thin I've just been wandering around for awhile pretending like I know where I'm going and smiling and waving along the way. Maybe that's what most people do when they're young. I don't want to be most people yet I can't deny that I constantly seek approval from most people. Am I doing all this for myself? Meh. I'll find out.

Today I can cross off the interview. Yes! (part of me is afraid to celebrate because I haven't actually been trained yet and I feel like I can't really say anything until I really know the swing of things..)

Now-studying for the cicerone exam...which I would like to pass before the end of this week...month...let's say week...or TODAY even ? maybe...maybe...I know myself so I try to postpone it but I should prove myself wrong more often and just fucking do it.

After this study session...depending on whether I will take the at the marina...probably walk more because I pushed myself too hard the other day. I feel fatter or maybe I'm just a girl with the fat mindset.

shower, drop off a videogame for Noelle if she's still at work. Head to Tali's. Come home, relax while I can.

I'm already kinda exhausted thinking about my new schedule but i will make it work. It will work. Work!

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Curling corners of the lips,
A sign you're happy to see me,
but I will take this sign
& kick it off its hinges.
I will make it collapse,
disappointing, on its side.
I will slap its shape
detached, & making it hide,
& I'm sorry, I really am,
I've had that face before.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

We had been fucking around, no other way to say that really. It's funny because when I met you I wasn't attracted to you at all. In fact I feel as though I just completely scanned over you & then my eyes moved on to something(one) else. Over time though, your laugh & touch began to mean something more to me. I just wanted to be around you. We had a good time together. We laughed a lot, had a keen eye for art (yours was much keener since it was what you were going to school for), you made me want to read & write more, & I admired you. You had everything together, you had plans. I felt like a distraction in all this and I guess I was, because one night you walked me home from a party where I had too many beers and I wouldn't let you leave my room until you kissed me. Well, not really....we both just kissed each other. I almost wanted it to be a bad kiss because I knew you were "unavailable." You didn't have a girlfriend, but you happened to be very responsible and busy (I was not) & you were the roommate of a friend who was deeply invested in making me his girlfriend (I was not). But it wasn't a bad kiss. It was an alarmingly good kiss actually. I felt it, really felt it- like when you pause the passion & look at each other knowing it's not always that you meet such similar moves as yours. There was a pulling of desire, touch and taste grabbing at each other and from the inside, deep & exploring. It was a most wonderful interruption of thoughts. So of course I was smitten, of course I wanted more. I thought about you & I a lot, but you only remembered there was a you & and I when we kissed. You would walk me home and I would pull you in, and further and further in, but then you would have to leave and I would have to watch you leave. I was already lonely at the time so I just made it harder on myself by allowing this to happen. I didn't think about how I was doing the same thing to someone else (room mate friend). Although we would slide together with such natural ease, it began to wear thin. I wanted more. So one night when you walked me home & it seemed as though you would not be coming inside the door you asked me, "What do you want Laura?"
and I very vulnerably said, "I want you."
You sighed & said you had to focus on school, you were very busy..."I just don't wan't a relationship right now."
       "No, you just don't want a relationship with me."
and you looked at me with one of those painfully sympathetic half smiles that people have because they're not quite sure how to make an "I just disappointed you face," and I knew I was right.
The next month you were with someone else, someone you would be with for a long time. Whenever I hear a girl start to tell me her love interest is being aloof or saying one thing & translating it from the hopeful perspective of her ego, I share this story, because I, girls, people, don't need an aloof relationship. Maybe for awhile it's fun, but arms you know that are going to ultimately wrap around you at the end of the day are the arms I want to be in. Not arms that do this just when we have sex, or maybe every other week, or whenever his school/work schedule is flexible enough. The right person will make you change your mind. If you feel it, you want it, you'll just do it, you'll make it work. You'll call, you'll kiss and you'll stay afterwards. You'll find a way. Now I just have to follow my own advice.