Current Crush [non-fiction prose]
Here I lay, all metal springs and discomfort. A tune playing-- his tune-- and I pretend we're having a connection. In my mind, despite creeping rationale, we could be together. He is auburn bearded and adorned with fashionable scarves and a houndstooth jacket. He is ideal. I am desperate and sorry, or so I play it. I build belief and dispel it in the same moment. I blame the web for having done this to me. In a better world, I would never have seen he and we would never be in my mind. I am mournful.
He sings songs of kisses gone unrequited. I write songs of things impersonal. We are the same and different. I fall in lust again. He is riding a bicycle for his beliefs, I am badly out of shape. It could never be. I call myself pathetic for even feigning half-authenticity in my desires. I blame technology again. I am frustrated.
He seems cool without even trying. I feel uncomfortable and wracked with guilt for even considering I may feel the same way about myself at times. He sings in French and it makes me forget. I remember I dated a Frenchman-- a Quebecois actually-- and I scowl. He is Canadian, too. It could never be. Distance alone pushes the idea out of my head.
I continue to listen to his voice and remiss any further desire. He is but a five-minute thing for me.
He sings songs of kisses gone unrequited. I write songs of things impersonal. We are the same and different. I fall in lust again. He is riding a bicycle for his beliefs, I am badly out of shape. It could never be. I call myself pathetic for even feigning half-authenticity in my desires. I blame technology again. I am frustrated.
He seems cool without even trying. I feel uncomfortable and wracked with guilt for even considering I may feel the same way about myself at times. He sings in French and it makes me forget. I remember I dated a Frenchman-- a Quebecois actually-- and I scowl. He is Canadian, too. It could never be. Distance alone pushes the idea out of my head.
I continue to listen to his voice and remiss any further desire. He is but a five-minute thing for me.