this, and then a shower.


--

the first time i hung out with you, you reminded me of the guys i used to fall for. instantly. i don't remember your birthday, but i know what your eyes look like. i don't remember any of the questions i asked you, and therefore any of the answers you gave me, but i do remember what cigarettes you smoke.

when i put on your hoodie, it was huge and thin. i was swimming in the fabric, surrounded by the smell of whatever you wore and your cigarettes. i could smell it instantly, and for some god forsaken reason it didn't bother me.

bob said you like me; i hope not. emphasis on the guys i used to fall for.

--

back to you, again, isn't it. god fucking damnit.

--

i remember the way you tasted when i kissed you after a cigarette. you were the only person that never tasted like cigarettes. you always just tasted like you. you never tasted dirty or gross or like you had to brush your teeth. even in the mornings when you'd wake up, you tasted good. i could have kissed you forever. i still have the text message, "i liked kissing you everywhere." i remember the context; it was your reply to "i liked kissing you at the top of the stairs."

goddamn, i could have fallen in love with you. i refuse to let myself believe that i actually already did, but it's possible.

--

well this is all just too honest, as i knew it would be. as these things usually are.

--

goodbye blog.

music is worthless

unless it can make a complete stranger break down and cry.


--

he's got a smile that made my heart skip beats. his eyes pierced me in a wierd way, especially when i caught him staring at me, which seemed to be every time i looked at him..

i really don't want to write about him because i know who reads this.
okaynextsubject.


--

fuck, nevermind.

why am i so useless when it comes to this today?

--

it hurt not to say hi to you today, but i just feel that this needs to end. it needs to end here because obviously everything i taught you, you never learned.

so, does that mean that all those times you agreed it was for the better, you were lying then too?

he laughed when i told him you quit. he did the quick chuckle of, 'oh, shit...she seriously believes that.' and then said, 'is that what he told you?'

fucking explain that. okay. and don't tell your stupid little bullshit friend to call me and ask if i hate you. man the fuck up, you know how i feel about that.

goodnight, fuckface.


--
and james, i'll definitely show you some of the fiction later, once i get further into it. if you care to read it! :)

oi... it has been over a week.

i'm not myself.

--

he watched my eyes when he asked me questions. his brown eyes blended with his pupils, and i couldn't define the two. i apparently looked up and to the right when remembering, and up and to the left when creating. down and to the right when imagining. apparently, i'm always spot on to what the book says.

"imagine a purple house that's on fire." up, left.
"what sound does a duck make?" center, left. auditory rememberance.
"what colour was your first car?" up, right.

i like it because he knows when i'm not lying. which is always. i also like it because i don't feel intimidated even though he asks all sorts of questions.

--

this is an excerpt that's been buzzing around in my head for a while.

--

actually, fuck this. spider solitaire is more brain clearing. goodnight, blog. maybe i'll write something useful soon.



love,
jes.

p.s. asymmetrical eyes. i think that's what my book would be called.

p.p.s. upon rereading this, i think it necessary: "imagine him naked." "haha, again?" "well, in a towel." "haha, okay." "in a GREEN towel." "no. guys are only sexy in white towels... mmm..."

dear blog.

this is painstakingly honest. i swear it.

--

i listen to this song, and i am reminded of how dead fucking seriously involved i was with you. it was fucking almost obsessive and stupid. i am reminded of sitting in your room, the sun setting behind the windows, and our conversation about drugs.

'well, i have one drug i do no matter what, and you can't stop that'
or something to that effect.
'what's that'

'ecstacy'

and at this point, you could have said heroin and i'd still miss you.

i don't want to write about you anymore. i'm going to sleep.

colorado.

and it all comes back to you.

when i think about you, which is more often than i'd like to admit, i am more of a trainwreck than i had ever thought a random hookup could have brought me to be. but there's still the same old sun in the sky, and the light reflects the same way against the dew in the morning as it did when i was with you.

and if i knew you missed me, i wouldn't feel so bad.

--

i remember when you tried to tell me you were crazy, and i laughed. i laughed because there was no way in hell you were crazy enough to scare me off.

--

fuck, why am i still writing about you. it's one month tomorrow, and i should've let go by now.

and this is all just too honest, and knowing that james still reads this is fucked up. god, there's another one for me to try to forget.

--

...just a sucker for those blue-eyed boys...

--

with you, i think i'm just doing okay because we don't talk anymore. if we hung out, i wouldn't know how to act. i'm sorry for not falling away when you asked me to, or letting go when you told me to. i just tend to take things a little too strongly into my own hands.

--

this is the part where i tell you how badly i just want to move away. i think i've managed to fuck up everything by trying to make something happen, which is INCREDIBLY stupid because i don't even want a boyfriend. what the fuuuuckkk?!

--

lotsoflinebreaks. deal.

--

hope i don't fuck things up with this boy now. he's fucking gorgeous. and he tells funny jokes. and i love jokes. :) but i refuse to force anything.

--

and as for my bbgscrush. fuck that douchebag. >_< fucking indecisive, conflicting asshat.

fucking butterflies when you walk by.


--

since that was all fucking gibberish:
-i still miss you. fuck.
-you're still cute and idk about being 'friends'
-you're gorgeous and i hope that things can work between us. :)
-fuck you, douchebag with a girlname.

that's life.

secretsecrets.

there's a lot more to things than meets the eye.
that's definitely for sure.

--

dear blog,

how are you? i just dropped my spanish class. ^_^ fuck to the yes.

uhm, basically, life is amazing mostly sometimes. okay, maybe not. but it's okay. i mean, rich gave me like fifteen bucks for no reason, which is awesome because now i have gas in my car. i had cheesy garlic bread and mac&cheese for dinner! that was good.

travis had a shoot yesterday, and i wanted to go with but i had to work. so, bummer. >_< i really want to go for a bike ride, but i have an abundance of accounting homework.

--

haha, i have a secret for you. it's almost embarrassing, and you have to promise not to get upset?

i read it before you told me about it. it was in your aim profile. before you gave your screenname to me, johnathon did. and yes, i still do. obviously.

--

(and so i do what i do, and at least i exist.)

--

well, blogface, i think it's breakfast time. if i can get a hold of johnathon, that would be GREAT.

and i have to work tonight, baby. so i won't be writing to you. but, bloggy, you know i'll be thinkin' about you. ;)

love,
jes.