they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
Trick or Treats + January 9. 2002. = 10:58 p.m.
All day, the smell of Boy's bed is in my hair. Yesterday / time warps. I meet him at the Record Store. His blue eyes and a kiss for the top of my head. I pretend I am less interested than I really am in the things he points fingers at. (because he is such a KnowItAll.) The rest of the afternoon spent in the 70's House. Movies and warm things to drink. Long couch and his long limbs near mine. Skin & messy hair. Later, lights out and sleepy conversations in his bed with yellow flannel sheets. so nice. Why is it that it is so scary to be happy? I am afraid I will curse myself by saying that I am very near to pinpointing my sentiments for him. Afraid that to confess how much I like him will lead to Things Falling Apart, and thusly , to my liking him very little- if it all. As if I could negate all that has occurred between us by admitting to myself that it may have a Future. The tricks I've tried to wean myself off of... In other news. I may have a new job Prospect. Very exciting, that. We shall see. It would involve Books (always a good thing). It would involve a very Odd/Smart/Kind Boy and his Very BossyDemandingBoss. I am intrigued.
prev/next
class
notes, file of pom-pom
ghosts!
