The things that slip my mind, in my absent-mindedness.
Well, I was supposed to have a good old Reverence session tonight with my boys, but, Diana let me forget, and I walked in over two hours late. Grr. I hate being late to anything. Scott flipped out on me. I was scared. He seems to be a lot more moody since the little "incident" this summer, and, understandably so. I mean. if I tried so hard, and just failed like that, I think I would be a little angry all the time, too. Whatever, I still love him, and, I just hope he knows that.
So, needless to say, I was a little hurt when Scott took my sticks and threw them at me and started screaming about irresponsiblity and all, and, I tried to make the excuse that I am still but a young one, and could not forge a ride, and he just flipped again. There was a lot of pointing and yelling, and references to Richie, and a lot of stuff that I really did not want to bring up. I almost cried, but, as always Adrian found a way to make it better instantly.
So, I sat over in my designated corner sulking and Adrian comes over with that distinctive style of his, I can't even explain it, crouches on one knee, so he can be right at eye level, and does that little thing where he touches your face, then backs you up, looks you deep in the eyes, and just smiles. He doesn't even have to say anything, the bastard. He knows that he is just magical, and there is no other explanation. I hate him sometimes, but, there is no denying that he had the power to make me smile and make me feel a lot better, again.
So, if any of you guys are out there looking for a drummer/guitarist, I am trying to give mine away right now, on the grounds that he is too sweet, and I get sick of not being able to be morbidly unhappy around him. Just be prepared, he tends to be a rabid feminist at times. Is that a problem? God, I love this boy.
Cannot regress. That did not work, I remind myself. He was too good for me. And, he was too old. The world doesn't seem to understand an eight year age difference. Bastards.
I tried to start the letter to Dwayne tonight. It doesn't seem to be going so well. I don't know exactly what I can and can't say, and I'm so afraid that everything I write will get him into trouble somehow. I hate it. I thought of composing most of it in french, as I don't know if any of the guys in there can read french, but, I stopped there, too, because I don't know exactly how much french he remembers. I really don't know what to do. I just want him to come home, and, NOW would be good. So, if anyone knows anything about the editing system in the Pennsylvania prison affiliation, let me know.
Okay. That is all that I wanted to say. I have to update Shefsheef, too, tonight. Gr. Amanda, comment. I miss you.