For you...

This is my last blog of night and hopefully my last angst one for a couple of days. I find it a bewildering thing to see the people I have loved and cared about grow away from me...after all our heart to hearts, crazy nights, and thoughtful texts....where are you now? What am I to you know? A familiar face stranger? It's only been two months since graduation and yet I can count on one hand the amount of times the effort on your side has been made to talk to me. I miss you and I'm not sure what exactly I did to get this shaft. Prehaps you've outgrown me...? You have no need for the girl that drove you to the ER when your roommates wouldn't, the girl who bought you a movie just to cheer you up when you were having a bad week, the girl who listened while you talked about the boy who was pulling the string of your heart, and the girl who no matter thick or thin was always just a phone call/text away from running to your room or you. Was the thing that drove you away from me, my own pursuit at love and sex? I was always right there in front of you. I know you never liked him and thought I deserved better, but I never weighed in on your love life. If anything I only tried to help my friend. I've only ever tried to help you and in turn sometimes when things got a little too much for me to bear on my own I'd turn to you...How can you use those moments against me to show me the error in my ways? Maybe you don't think that's what you're doing...it feels like that. It feels like I've been shunned, that a conscience choice was made to cut me out of your lives to bare minumium...til I'm only a speck of your past. The tiny dandylion seed floating in the breeze reminding you of what use to be....

Like we never missed a day.

I have every reason to trust you and I do. I trust you with my heart, body, and soul. Then, why, I ask myself am I feeling the ever so small drop of doubt. I understand I have no right to know everything about your life anymore, I forfeited that right a long time ago. I won't lie though. It hurts. I don't know if it hurts me more that you didn't tell me who you were seeing, until I asked repeatedly or because you didn't tell me until you'd gotten back. Sigh. And I know the only reason I'm upset right now is because you're gone and I'm sitting in my condo waiting for your text to tell me you're safely home. Give me an hour to collect myself and I'll go back to living my life. That doesn't mean I'm moping, I'm just pondering things that could have been. This morning getting ready in the bathroom with you felt so natural, it makes me miss the idea I used to have of us living together. Sigh. I love you and I never get tired of saying it. I just wish that was enough. Bahhumbug. I need a nap and a clear head.

A foreign love.

A friend recommended the french film, "Paris Je T'aime" for my viewing pleasure. I absolutely enjoyed the film. I loved the different little films through out it. I must say Paris is so tempting on film. Out of all the stories I loved four in particular: Quais de Seine; La Marais; Bastille; 14e arronissement.

• Quais de Seine is the story of a chance. A young man who is sitting with his friends in a park. His friends attempt to pick up women by yelling things they think will perk the women's interest. A young Muslim woman sitting near finds the friends to be annoying and leaves, but trips. They mock her, while the young man comes to her rescue. They talk, she leaves. He then suddenly decides to find her at her Mosque. The idea of taking a chance like that is so romantic and alluring.

• La Marais is the story of lost words. A young french man meets a printshop worker and instantly believes him to be his soulmate. The other young man sits and listens to the french man pour his heart out to him. The french man leaves and it is saddly revealed that the printshop worker doesn't speak french well. The story ends with the printshop worker running down the street. It's hard to say what the ending means...to me I think he was running towards the young french man and not away. The things the french man said, even though the words were foreign, the feeling had to have still been there.

• Bastille is the story of reconnecting. A husband is meeting his wife in a restaurant to tell her that he is leaving her. As he watches her walk towards the restaurant, he tells the viewer all the things that he cannot stand about her anymore. It seems there is nothing left for them, especially once it is revealed that he has been having an affair for over a year. When the wife arrives at the table she begins to weep. The husband clearly thinks that she knows, but she hands him papers from the doctor. She's dying. He decides to stay with his wife. The story ends with, "In pretending to be a man in love, he became a man in love."

• 14e arrondissement is the story of growth. An American tourist spends 6 days in Paris by herself. She describes her adventures. Of all the stories her's is the most touching. I'm not sure if it's because I understand the joy and sadness she feels at the end or for another reason. When I visited Italy in high school it held that feeling for me too. "All I can say is that I felt, at the same time, joy and sadness. But not too much sadness, because I felt alive. Yes, alive. That was the moment I fell in love with Paris. And I felt Paris in love with me."

I'd love to visit Paris. This film has reminded me of that picture I saw as a child. It's not the same one as the one posted in this blog, but the idea is similiar. It's couple in front of the Eiffel Tower kissing and they seem in such love. I thought as a young girl, wouldn't that be great? It seems as a young woman I still feel that way. I love the way Paris looks, I love the way french sounds, and my heart still aches everytime I see a picture of a couple kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower. Maybe someday I can travel there with a boyfriend or maybe even a husband. Until then Paris....Je t'aime.

A Poem.

Going through a stack of old papers today, I discover this poem that I wrote in High School. Its amazing how overlly dramatic I was then...

Bed of Black

I'm laying in a bed of black
the rain is falling all around me,
darkness swallowing me back.
I've lost all sense of time and love.

I hug my pillow, where you use to lay.
I'm alone in my darkness to slumber forever,
a tomb of numbness and isolation.

This bed of black is death to me;
a coffin of memories and fears.
This bed of black is my nightly grave,
where eternal damnation awaits.

And I'm tangled in the sheets of regret,
unable to sleep and escape my death.
The ceilings growing closer and the wallsa re closing in.
I'm losing myself and I'm taking a breath...

But it's not use, theykeep coming closer.
I close my eyes and think of you, my love.
We use to share this darkness together,
but you are no longer here, my lover.

But this bed of black is death to me;
a coffin of memories and fears.
This bed of black is my nightly grave,
where eternal damnation awaits...

It's not very rhymie and I'm not even sure what inspired it anymore, but one couplet sticks with me, "And I'm tangled in the sheets of regret/unable to sleep and escape my death." For whatever reason those lines make me want to get back writing my extremely sappy/overly dramatic love stories...prehaps I shall take up writing again. I have missed it.

Nothing to do, no where to be.

I've decided that nothing in my life will replace the feeling of this. Just laying in bed cuddling. I don't know why I never want to get out of bed when I wake up next to you. Nor do I know why I can't keep my hands off of you. You're like an addiction. A good one. I like knowing that when I wake you're right next to me. Driving back today was a touch drive, not only because of the distance and time of day, but cause I don't know when the next time I'll have you in my bed is. I have a lot of feeling swirling around my brain right now about last night. I fear if I voice them, in a couple more hours, I won't have a reason to feel them. So I'm going to keep riding the high I have from last night/this morning and hope its enough to get me through the next couple of days.

I'm getting this out of my system...

I miss the way you called me Sarah Jean. I miss how your beautiful brown eyes use to stare into mine when we layed in bed. I miss how you used to squeeze my hand. I miss the way your lips felt against mine when we kissed. I miss the way you used to bite me and make me laugh. I miss seeing you use your magic powers on your brother. I miss how we'd talk everyday. I miss when I knew my phone going off was you. I miss making plans with you. I miss when could just lay in bed and talk. I miss our late night talks. I miss hating the birds chirping in morning when we still hadn't gone to bed. I miss hanging out in your awkwardly shaped single in Houston watching movies. I miss being able to walk across campus to see you. I miss walking back to my room at 8 am, knowing waking up early was worth it to spend the night with you. I miss our skype sessions. I miss how you loved my body, even when I didn't. I miss how you called me beautiful. I miss how you'd tease me for my dislike of girly things. I miss you letting me be a girl with you. I miss you holding me when I cried. I miss seeing you almost everyday. I miss sleeping in the same bed as you. I miss the way you'd snore and I'd know you were asleep even though we'd been talking 5 minutes ago. I miss feeling your breath on my neck as I slept. I miss taking care of you. I miss being nervous at the idea of eating dinner with your parents. I miss watching Arrested Development with you. I miss you stroking my face. I miss making out with you. I miss the sex. I miss you allowing me to take things slow and helping me. I miss the idea of showering with you. I miss watching Are You Afraid of the Dark with you. I miss cuddling on the couch with you. I miss being able to let my hands wonder your body. I miss being at parties with you and knowing I'd be going home with you. I miss taking walks with you. I miss knowing it was okay to care about you as much as I do. I miss when I'd get jealous about you talking about all the other girls you'd ever been with. I miss wondering what they had that made you want to be with them before me. I miss having a reason to think that you were mine. I miss the smile I'd get saying your name. I miss waking up next you. I miss driving in the car while you sang Ke$ha's "Your Love is My Drug". I miss your encouragement that I'd do fine at an audition. I miss knowing it was okay if either of us cried at graduation. I miss being more concerned about you then what my friends thought. I miss being mad at you for stupid reasons. I miss you making fun of my Edward Cullen pillow. I miss you calling Hello Kitty, Hi Kitty. I miss you getting excited when Gaga would fall asleep on me. I miss that you didn't care my room was a complete mess the first time you saw it. I miss when you'd talk to me like an intellgent person. I miss hearing stories of your freshman year. I miss going through your box of memories. I miss meeting your best friend. I miss that you cuddled with me on your bed even though your friends were there. I miss you thinking me being drunk was funny. I miss when I'd call you a vagina and then admit in private that I didn't think you were. I miss talking about our interactions before we liked each other with new insight. I miss talking about you going to Smith. I miss thinking that you'd be visiting me in the fall at school. I miss the idea of living with you. I miss you helping me pack up my apartment. I miss our goodbye kisses, when we didn't know the next time we'd see each other. I miss being able to share inside jokes with you. I miss being able to text you when I couldn't text anyone I was with because it was about them. I miss learning new things about you. I miss you learning new things about me. I miss that you didn't care I had so many cats. I miss that you'd talk to me about my Grandfather. I miss that you shared yourself with me. I miss thinking of things to do on your birthday. I miss making you things, that I'd never actually end up giving you. I miss looking at coloring books and ragging on you, when I actually liked that you colored. I miss knowing that my most embrassing moments didn't scare you away. I miss being able to think about you without wanting to cry. I miss your trust in me. I miss you caring about me. I miss being yours. But most of all I miss you. I know I'll never have you again. I had my chance and I was an idiot. You tell me to be easy on myself and forgive myself. You say that I'm not a monster or a bad person, I just made a stupid choice. Well I miss being able to agree with you. I pass the days thinking about when I'll be able to talk to you and then scolding myself. I need to focus on something else. You're not mine anymore, I lost you. I lost your trust and faith in me. Its funny I was typing the previous sentence and accidentally wrote, "I love y-" freudian slip I guess.