Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 832. Or, You got your 9 iron in the back seat just in case. I was laying face down on the bed, khakis and socks. We were talking about nothing, and he pulled off my left sock. Does it say Now on your foot? Laughing, I replied, Yes. It did indeed say Now on my foot. I was working on a project, I said, knowing he wouldn't question why. He didn't. The muscles in my back are torn. You are so cute when you have those Topeka, Kansas! moments. The muscles in my neck and arms have been pulled beyond, and pushed too far. I'm only watching you because you look so adorable when you're trying to pretend I'm not watching you. My thighs will not yet forgive me for the torture I've put them through. And in all of this, I confessed and cried. He said, It must have been hard for you to say that. And I replied into the pillow, Yes. Another Valentine's Day will be on us like a young dog humping its master's leg. Those of us who are still lonely in a crowd will pretend it doesn't mean anything and nurse our wounds with stories of counts of days when it was worse. I hope I don't get more carnations this year; there's nothing I hate more. And I don't want one flower, I want two dozen. Sure. There are more men than I need, but I have one for each piece of me that needs a friend and I'm only waiting to see who asks my permission before they court me. I plan on living up to my reputation. I don't trust her. I don't trust him, he'll slip because he was waiting for those words, but he'll cover it quickly and play it off on something else. I've been places I shouldn't have been. I've been catching your face in strangers. Tricky, that hope, it's starting to run away with me. 10:13 p.m. - 2004-02-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||