(no subject)

[papillion1216]

it smells like coffee here. the heat is actually regulated. there's food in the frige, and clean sheets on my bed. i'm home. it's more contagious here, though. i sat in my bed for a good three hours feeling that sickness. that longing. i played a game to distract myself, but i ran over in my head about 100 times what it would say if i wrote it. would i just say the things i would want to say if i called? or would it have real meaning? real depth? real body? a real spirit? i've got to stop the obsession. i've got to find a way to repress. to move away, but not move on. i've got to distract my mind, but keep him there as well. i've got to stop with the music and the pictures, and the notes.

::sigh:: the notes. it's like holding a celebrity's autograph. his hand really touched that paper. those words really came from his fingers. and all they read are "i love you" "i'll always love you" and the pet names, and the edearments, and the little inside jokes that come flooding back like a wave of nostalgia. i've got to stop! i want to lock them up and throw away the key. i've got to rid myself of all that is him and all that i ever dreamed he could be. we could be. maybe i'll do it tomorrow... everything just feels like waste without him.

but just for today, it's drinks, dancing, and my sexy jeans. :o)

"i just wanna dance... fuck guys! i just wanna dance!"