A Story, Not Much.

Ethereal. That's what you said to me. How my eyes look with sadness in them and my mask on tight. Life is like an upbeat song until you fall off the top 40 horse. I can't stand this gallop; slow it down. I am mid height, brown hair, brown eyes, red lips, and a weird smile. I get itchy fast and I can't stand when I get caught up in a boy. In you, boy. I wear clothes that don't quite feel like mine. Maybe someone else. I'm not quite sure but I stand firm in our kiss. Our soft, promising kiss. You had to leave anyway. That kiss wasn't going to make you stay. Make you promise to take my hand in marriage. No. No...I want to make you stay and have picnics in the forest and whisper about our futures. We can't now. The train arrives and my hand that is warmed in yours falls dead and limp by my side as you take steps backward. And now you turn fully around to leave. I run after you, grab the tip of your coat, and reach for your face and give you a smoldering kiss. It's quick, it's sincere, and it stops you in your tracks. That destination can wait; I want us. You want us. That should be enough. No, that doesn't happen. That never happened. I am left. Left to tend to myself.

I just felt the need to write tonight. I bought the new Eisley CD and started writing. I felt like it was needed. I am so happy to see the weekend. It's been a long week and then after next week, SPRING BREEEAK! Yay!! I Googled how to be approachable. Can you tell I'm lonely?

bye for now!


#40: You would take the cherished people that I know.

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