why don’t I write anymore?

The internet is so seductive.

Anyway, I’m home.

The musical was fantastic, especially given some of the circumstances.

Oh Facebook Honesty Box, how you beckon. But on the other hand, you actually got some real information out of me and someone else. Relationship improving information.

MSN + webcam = long distance face-making at someone special. Once he gets his ass to Future Shop, we may start Skyping so we can SAY inane things while making faces, instead of just typing them.

Once you start thinking about being profound, it gets much harder.

I don’t even journal a lot anymore.

This must be fixed.

revision dilemma

There is a boy.  Last year, when I started this blog, I was romantically interested in him.  The tag for him to a certain extent reflects this.  Now we are friends, only friends.  I know I decided to not to revise previous posts to reflect the current truth, but what about tags?  It seems odd to tag him in a way that implies (at least to me) romantic interest, but I don’t want to just make up a new tag without changing all the old ones. So do I change the old ones?  Complicating the issue slightly is the fact that he and K. have the same first initial.

Anyway, I originally got onto this topic because I liked something he’d said about Robin:
“Robin had the reputation akin to a Goddess. She is always there; watching, waiting.”
Which I loved, and wanted to quote here.

I do almost feel like she’s still watching me, asking me why I’ve read so little of the Darwin I’m supposed to be reading.

I’ve been drowning my sorrows in Monty Python, junk food, and tea, mainly, because I’m sure she’d worry if I drowned them in anything stronger. (I did have a slightly spiked hot chocolate last night.)

I’ve been wearing this silly little bracelet, too. Just brightly coloured plastic beads – she picked it up one day when we were organizing the costume shop and said something like “this looks like you.”
My friend E. wears a beautiful, simple silver metal bracelet in memory of her friend Haley, and as lovely as something like that would be, the bright plastic found in the theatre somehow seems so much more appropriate for Robin.

a bunch of different people

I love you, you know.

A year later, I want what you offered. Is it too late?

I don’t know, I just don’t know.

The more I talk to you the less I want to.

Stop using that tone. Just stop.

I lie to you with increasing frequency.

You’re a sweetie.

I’m glad I got the guts to talk to you, you’re awesome.

I used to have the biggest crush on you.

I miss you.

I miss our conversations.

Please leave me alone.

Thank you.

Quelquefois

I want things to be different.
If I could make one wish
I’d return to that dream
fantasy of me and you.
The one reality bent around
until you bent it back.

I hate it when you’ve turned your back.
When it’s been so long, and it shouldn’t feel different
anymore. When it’s “see you around,”
and all I can do is wish.
When it’s so long since I’ve touched you.
I just get lost in a dream.

I wonder do you miss that dream?
Do you want to have it back?
And how are you,
anyway? You’re different.
I wonder do you wish
The way I do? Well, I’ve wished enough to go around.

What goes around comes around
and life is a crazy dream.
Blow out your birthday candles, make a wish.
Could all the pink yellow blue candles get us back
to where we were? It’s different now
maybe. Not sure about you.

When I see you
wherever, just around
you don’t seem that different.
Just less busy, which lets me dream
of your saying you want me back.
Not a guess, just a wish.

An eyelash has fallen, make a wish.
I’ve used so many on you
but I wouldn’t take any back.
Maybe they’ll come back around,
anyway. I can still dream
of things being different.

I only wish when you’re not around.
Like the other night, you were in my dream.
I’d take you back, even if it’s different.

handwritten . . .

. . . and in French.  And no, I’m not talking about a literal eggplant.

hugs

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Physical Touch
with a secondary love language being
Quality Time.

Complete set of results

Physical Touch:		11
Quality Time:		9
Acts of Service:		6
Words of Affirmation:		3
Receiving Gifts:		1

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don’t understand our partner’s requirements, or even our own. We all have a “love tank” that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

—–

Doesn’t really surpise me.  I’m a very huggy person.

From my paper journal: “I can talk to him online more easily than in person because online I don’t need to suppress the urge to hug him and never let go.”

Hugs - human contact - a basic food group for me.  When I can’t hug one person, when I lose a previously consistent source of contact, I glom onto someone else . . .

letter

Dear me,
You can do this, okay? You’re a big girl, and you’ve been handling it so far. You’re not going to let this distract you from dance concert, or academics, right? You can get through this if you try.
You’re not quite seventeen and half, you have so much life ahead of you (I hope), he’s just one person.
I promise you you won’t die over this.
Love, me

platonic for her, not for him

I love you, ya know?
not just saying it to you
I mean it - always

could you come back please?
can’t force you - that wouldn’t fit
so I’ll try waiting

huh.

Last night I was up far too late working, after pulling an all-nighter the previous night.

I had way to many friends IMing me sternly ordering me to go to bed, but what actually worked was this . . .

(12:44:12 AM) [me]: sweet dreams
(12:44:24 AM) [him]: you too, and I hope you go to bed eventually… >.<

And I’m too tired to write anything more.

two haikus and a tanka

 it’s nice that you care
but priorities get fucked
sometimes sleep comes last

hypocrite - you are
but I love you anyway
thank you, sweet - thank you

when we hug I think
you feel so thin - breakable
but still you feel strong
do you fear I’d break too?  don’t -
I can’t break me when I try

All ’bout different people, if you were wondering.