Saturday, February 6, 2010

And I thought love WASN'T a band-aid

I'm really...lonliest after I have a fight
I don't know why honestly because it's not like I'm alone. But it feels that way. And the outsides of my hands and head...are achingly hot and burning like the outside of a blistered campfire hot dog, and the insides of me are sick and twirled, like a Dairy Queen cone in the midst of a dizzy, sweaty summer day. And my feet are cold. Like icicles they shake like dry ice steaming, stand out as the focal point of the picture, the true feeling in my shaken psyce: cold bitterness to the day's conclusion. Why I get in fights at all at the end of a long, blissfully (resented) lazy day I will never know. Today was one of those days...where I forgot what good I ever did for myself and asked aloud, "What do you want?", which was answered with "I don't know"...a terrible statement I've made way too many times but which I still judged (and will continue to judge for that matter, I'm human and a bad one apparently since I "remember" things) And you know when all you want is a hug or that one "worst time" moment. I totally get those kissing scenes that are unexpected yet droll and cliche...the couple fights. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT!!" She turns away...he grabs her hand...pulls her close, up to his hips, his chest, they kiss...I understand those moments now. They make sense. Because in that lonely wish-it-could-be-over-my-heart's-already-done-with-this-subject moment, when I turned away and shut my eyes fast to blink out the small tears that had formed in the creases, I just wanted to be loved.

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