I want my kisses back from you
(Matters of the Heart, 1411 views) - 1/23/04
(recorded 1/23/04 @ 6:54:18 PM)
Crazy. Something crashes and everything slows down. I have to think about breathing. It's refreshing. I'm so confused, but set free. I have no hope, no direction, no resolve, but I've never been more inspired.
What sparked this? What was pumped into my veins that now floods my heart with adrenaline and my head with toxic thoughts? I swear I'm on fire. Don't you see what you do to me? Your smile burns a hole right into my soul. I can't hide from you. You've got those glasses. X-ray glasses. You can see all my secrets. I will never lie to you.
How long's it been? 12 hours? 13? Eleven. No- Eleven and a half, roughly. Maybe eleven hours and forty-five minutes. Yeah. (It's 7 p.m. now.) We'll go with that. A moment eleven hours, forty-five minutes, and 46 seconds ago. You were there. Remember? You were wearing a watch too. You always keep track of time. You always plan things out ahead of time. On schedule. Me? I'm always late. Fashionably. And always with an impossible slash hilarious story full of reasons why. You are all my reasons.
Maybe it's the weather. I love the rain. I don't understand Seattlons. They're all committing suicide while I'd die to live somewhere where it's couldy and stormy and rainy so often. It started raining when I was out on my run tonight. Drip, drip. Look up at the sky to make sure no one is spitting at me. Drip, drop. Light and cool on my face. So I took off my sweatshirt and ran home faster. And the song on my MP3 player perfectly matched the rhythm of my breathing. So I sang along. Out loud, singing, people staring. I didn't get any tips. You would have laughed. And liked it. Even though I don't have a pretty voice. I make it work for me. We harmonize so well together when we sing, you and I, in your car. You're a great singer. Have you ever taken lessons? I was in a few musicals as a child, but nothing more. You would have made a perfect Mercury. I was Iris. I sang something about a Rainbow and Dew and Feasts for the Gods while dancing on my toes adorned with styrofoam wings and colored lace. I still have the outfit. Want to see it? I can still fit. I'd let you take it off.
I'm so... excited. About... I don't know. I have no idea. I'm not happy-excited, I'm scared-nervous-excited. But.. not terrified. Wait, I take it back. I'm terrified. Thoroughly terrified. But I'm far from horrified. It's like the High Dive. Ever considered CPR training? I've had some. But it would be cool to be a certified lifeguard. Are you? We need more people like you.
If you've ever heard me explain my first reaction to hearing "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight," by The Postal Service, you have some inclination of how my insides feel right now. I can tell it's that feeling because my skin is covered with goosebumps, little moguls down the plunge between my shoulder blades. Every time you run your fingernails along my spine, I shiver. You make me shiver. You make me lots of things.
I wore a pear ring today. Yes. It was a thin silver ring with a small blue pear on it. It was really cool. I have two pairs of red sunglasses. Match my car. But not on purpose. There's something about the color red. You never understood that ring, but you knew it was my mother's so you wouldn't make fun of it. And you know my infatuation with the color red. It's the color my cheeks turn when you stare at me silently with your icy blue eyes and rub your leg against mine. It's the color of your hands when I warm them on my belly after you've been outside for too long. It's the color of our locked lips while we're stopped at an intersection bathed in that same hue.
You drive me crazy. Insane, and I mean it. I think about you all the time. Randomly. It makes no sense. Everything reminds me of you. The sky in the morning: the yellows on the edges of the clouds and the pinks that oppose them. The way the man in front of me orders his coffee: hands in pockets, leaning forward slightly as if to whisper a secret, leaning back when his order was placed, shifting his weight while waiting, tossing his head back when they call his name. You didn't have the hair to toss back though. You keep yours short. It's too short for me to play with, but I run my hands through it nonetheless and you lean your head into my chest while I do. Your goatee, though, isn't off-limits. I like how it tickles my face when we kiss. You don't kiss me enough. I've kissed you from across the room millions of times. We will sit opposite each other and I will stare at you, imagining my hands running along your shoulder, the smooth line of your neck. Do you ever kiss me from across the room? I wish you would kiss me.
I'm terrified because I don't know if you truly understand me. I'm terrified because I don't know you at all.
But I love you all the same.
Won't you let your thoughts wander my way once? Your intelligence is intimidating. Your good looks make me lose track of my thoughts. Your sense of humor is unbeatable. Your skills humble. Teach me something. This fresh slate. Let's start something here. Now. Together.
We need more people like you.
I need you.
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