Something about everything that bugs me. How much I love him, how much I do but don’t want to stay together. How much everything hurts and how much I just want to…I can’t even describe it in words anymore. It’s just this nagging sense of something that eats and eats and eats away at everything, it’s like acid.
He always checks, when he puts on headphones, whether or not it’s the left or right earpiece, it bothers him when he gets it wrong.
But he makes me happy on the inside. I feel like I want to keep him, keep him still and hold him somewhere, captive. I wasn’t really kidding about the whole Calypso thing. God, I hope that haircut thing works out.
Okay, okay, maybe I do look like a retard. But at least I’m happy, at least I look the part.
The house is dark and damp, pellets of rain drum against the windows. He wakes to a clap of thunder.
Do you know your beaches?
I don’t really know why I’m happy with him. Honestly. But I am happy, indecently happy. I don’t want to let go.
Okay, I know shut the fuck up. He isn’t the most handsome thing in the world. He doesn’t have the biggest dick in the world (whatever, at this, point, whatever, it’s honestly, the only one I know, so for all I know, it’s the best thing in the world), and honestly, my conscious isn’t going to let me get away with staying with him my entire in life and in a secret portion of my soul, I know, I want, I know I want to marry a white man, but goddamn, god motherfucking goddamn son of a bitch, I LOVE HIM. So you, you, stay still and shut the fuck up for a couple seconds. What happens, happens, I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it. I’ll fucking deal with it.
Honestly, I don’t know when I’m gonna wake up tomorrow, honestly. It feels like I might not making up tomorrow. XD
Oh well, oh fucking well. I don’t even have a big part and I’m going to look like a retard tomorrow.
I want to see him tomorrow. I want to see him tomorrow. I want to be with him, forever and ever and ever. And, I don’t know, I need his hair to grow back.
I don’t think about Ricky anymore, maybe I was just desperate and in this desperation, I stumbled into him, which, honestly, is the best anything I could’ve ever asked for. My superman. My hero. My savior. (Okay, that last one, too extreme, but still…)
CHRIST FUCKING MISQUITOS
JESUS CHRIST!
I HAVE ANOTHER ONE ON THE BACK OF MY NECK!!! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK FUCK IS THIS SHIT!?
I still can’t get over how much ‘this’ looks like ‘shit’.
This is my boyfriend. His name is Jeffrey. He’s a little shy, a little strange and a little unfamiliar.
I want
I want to hold on and never let go
I want to love you forever
It’s like being addicted to heroine, or addictive to anything. The more you have, the more you want it and it gives you the shivers when you think about living without it.
He, you, you were the first the person to love me. I’ll never forget you. Cross whatever bridge that comes my way, I’ll remember you forever.
If I breathe deeply enough, sometimes I can still smell him, lingering in my senses.
Obsessive love
Well, I haven’t written a word in a really long time.
Mainly because, I think, I’ve been spilling my guts to Jeffrey, thus eliminating a real need to pour my sacred thoughts out to Word. But, now that he’s gone, my anti-drug, I’ve returned to thee. Oh, how I have missed the serif fonts, the clacking of my keyboard, the stark, austere black font on white, pixel by pixel, keystroke by keystroke, a sick and twisted masturbation, I confess myself to you.
Right, so, I’m going to head to work in a bit, like, ten minutes, or so. I’m really glad she’s on vacation, it means I’m on vacation, for that one day or so.
I have about a week left, a week left of the inside of my room, a week left of my electric fan humming by my side, a week left of lethargic stillness, stagnation, boredom, or not posting on my anime blog, or fiddling with the rest of my site and code and whatever.
Anime’s been out of my system lately, I’ve, in a really odd way, lost complete interest in the matter. I’m hoping to pick it back up again because it’s not really something I can do without, but it’s nice to know that I can live without it regardless.
I’m going to learn how to play Nightrain, just watch.
This document’s been open for a long ass time.
Do I love him? Yes. No? Maybe? I can’t tell anymore, but I want him, I love being with him. I love him in me. It’s a weird feeling to feel like you belong somewhere and that somewhere, someone loves you.
Famous people write memoirs, I’m not famous yet.
He left today, around 2ish, 3ish, with a picture of me in his wallet and a rabbit keychain, as reminder of my love, with him, somewhere on his person.
I’ll wait for the day he returns.