(no subject)
the other day, I was in evan's car with sadie garside, and he asks, when's the last time either of you got kissed?
sadie laughed and said, "when I was five...?" and I answered and said, "last summer."
evan just sat there, and said, "hum," in the most pensive voice. so I asked him, "what does that mean?"
he said; "I don't know. that's just surprising. I mean, I'm sitting here with two beautiful girls, and they're telling me the last time they got kissed was that long ago.. I feel like that's hard to believe."
it doesn't matter why he said it, and it doesn't matter if it's completely truthful. all that matters is that he said it, he cares enough to say it, and it made me feel so good about myself.
also, today at the sparrow, peter walked in- really cold (and stoned?) and so I held his hand to warm him up. it was just really nice, to hold his hand like that. to know we can have that kind of affection.
then later, when we were sitting downstairs, I was acting a little distant, so he reached out to hold my hand. he did it in the sincerest, most caring, gentle way. and again, when he left, we held hands, as a little goodbye- and it wasn't just - holding - it was, holding, touching, feeling, a real hold. and I could just feel him, feel the connection.
I don't care how ridiculous and terribly poetic that sounds. it's the truth, and I love him, and I love where our friendship is.
sadie laughed and said, "when I was five...?" and I answered and said, "last summer."
evan just sat there, and said, "hum," in the most pensive voice. so I asked him, "what does that mean?"
he said; "I don't know. that's just surprising. I mean, I'm sitting here with two beautiful girls, and they're telling me the last time they got kissed was that long ago.. I feel like that's hard to believe."
it doesn't matter why he said it, and it doesn't matter if it's completely truthful. all that matters is that he said it, he cares enough to say it, and it made me feel so good about myself.
also, today at the sparrow, peter walked in- really cold (and stoned?) and so I held his hand to warm him up. it was just really nice, to hold his hand like that. to know we can have that kind of affection.
then later, when we were sitting downstairs, I was acting a little distant, so he reached out to hold my hand. he did it in the sincerest, most caring, gentle way. and again, when he left, we held hands, as a little goodbye- and it wasn't just - holding - it was, holding, touching, feeling, a real hold. and I could just feel him, feel the connection.
I don't care how ridiculous and terribly poetic that sounds. it's the truth, and I love him, and I love where our friendship is.