Spontaneous...

I came back just a few minutes ago after posting my last bit. Right after I wrote that, I went out, walked for a long while and found a good place to cry... and cry and cry and cry. I cried long and hard. Over and over. It hurt so much. Eventually, I came back, then while I still wallowed in self-pity, I took a cup of tea out to my dorm hallway to look out the window. I watched as the people walked past, oblivious of me. Then, out of no where, someone started talking to me. He invited me to come with him and three other friends. They led me toward the city, down the long and winding hill, toward a Hookah Lounge. Surprise, surprise. My gut told me no. So I ignored it. And instead went with them for the adventure. With three strangers. That I didn't know. At 10 at night. In the dark. The only girl. Wow, my gut was screaming. But anyways, halfway down the hill, I decided I wouldn't go in and just head back on my own once they got there. They convinced me otherwise. So once we got there, I wasn't really expecting to go there and event led to event and I didn't bring my ID with me. (Lucky me?) But either way, I was going to walk back on my own.

Then the guy who invited me, without batting an eyelash, said he'd walk me back up that enormous hill. On the way up, clumsy me slipped and landed on my hands. (Not until just a few minutes ago did I realize I dropped my precious headphones at that moment - great, right?) He got my shoe that fell off for me and asked if I could walk. All nicey, nicey without the cliche crap that I hate. Concern without intention behind it. I liked that, a lot. Later on, as we got higher up the hill (all the while we talked - though it was mostly him since I never started a conversation - and completely casually too), and closer to our college, he took us up toward the other side and ran, so I followed running. He stopped, looked out over the edge, and I think we stood there talking about nothing in particular for about 10 or 15 minutes, all the while catching our breath, as we looked out over the most amazing glitter of lights.

It's funny, I made so many little signals, though they were probably lost to the darkness, and he never made a move. I wondered if he either had no interest or was just being considerate, either way it put me at ease. It felt totally natural being with him, it was the best way to end a horrible night. I hope he takes me out again, and this time, I'll bring my ID and some money, just in case. No worries, I won't be smoking anything ever, so you can relax. I'm really glad I went. I'm still smiling. :)

I want... him

I feel empty, sad. Like I'm missing something... someone. God, why does it feel like I need to have sex, or at least some sort of sexual interaction, to make this empty pain go away. I've moved. I'm out of that house, but this feeling doesn't lessen. It hurts. Make it stop. I need someone. Please. Someone, wherever you are, come up to me and hunt me down. Don't let me go. Grasp at me and hold me tight. I don't like this emptiness. It's too painful. It hurts. It hurts so very much. I don't want to be alone.

I feel so desperate... saying all this. I know it's useless. I know it won't change anything, but I needed a place to put my thoughts. I have nothing else. I need someone to make all the pain seem pointless. Someone who won't make me feel forced to talk when I eat across from them, just to still the silence, even though I prefer eating in silence. Someone who will sit there with me, hold my hand, smile at me when I look up form my food and make me blush. Someone who will take me out and around, my hand held tightly in their's, just so I get outside and so I feel like I have a purpose in being there. Someone who will let me lay on their chest and just run my fingers up and down there skin, just to reassure myself that they are really there. Someone who will force a kiss on me as I push away in a purposely fruitless way. Someone who will lick my tears away, kiss my eyes, and hush me, saying they are there and they won't leave. Someone who will get jealous when another guy looks at me and then prove to me I'm his by taking my body in his hand. Someone who won't let me feel lonesome. Someone who is there. Someone who won't stop being there. Someone who wants to be there. Someone who will make the silences between us natural instead of awkward. Someone who will tell me "You're mine" instead of "I love you" because he would know that those words have no meaning to me. Someone who will slowly give those words back their meaning with the heat of his passion. Someone who will stand beside me not as equals, but as a man and his possession. Someone who will mark me and make me his through physical action, not through words. Someone who is strong enough physically and mentally to bare the burden of owning me.

I want to belong to him, and him alone. I've said it so many times, I've waited and waited. I want nothing more. I want to be his. I want to know what he looks like, what he feels like, what he tastes like, what he sounds like. I want nothing more. I want only to be his possession. It's not much, just to meet him, or to kiss him, or to have his affection. Just that. Please, even that. I want... him. I know he's out there. I've seen people like me with their match, with their owner. I just have to wait, right? I don't want to wait anymore... I want him. So much more than I can bare. I'm so lonely.

In the end, I was brave for once...

It was harder than I thought to go see my dad again after seeing him in the hospital after open heart surgery. A good hard, but hard nonetheless. About a day ago, I wouldn't have been able to even talk about it like this. I've shoved the thoughts of that one scene so far down into my memories that, even after coming to terms with it, I find it impossible to fully reclaim those memories. Only a few pieces resurface and then fade just as quickly as they appeared. Like the scene as I first walked into the hospital, the look, the smell, even signing my name on a sheet of paper the lady behind the desk gave me. I can remember that easily. But as we walked closer to his room, the images get harder to recall. I can get clear images up until his door was just a few steps away. Then it snaps to when I first saw him, tangled and covered in wires and tubes. Next is the way he forced himself to talk. It hurt. It hurt so badly it literally took all I had in me to keep from crying my eyes out right then and there. Then I snap to when we left, just as we passed out of the door, I broke. I choked back my voice and shook, tears rolling endlessly down my face, my hands pressed heavily against my eyes and my brother holding my shoulder tightly against him. I cried harder the farther we got. I'm about to cry now as I remember all this. It still hurts. No wonder my mind buried my memories so well. But then, why would it allow me to recall only the most painful parts. I know there's more to this timeline then just simple snaps of images and scenes, but recalling it just causes my mind to hide them away as quickly as possible.

Today... yes, today. Things seemed just a bit easier. It took all my courage to come up and visit him, all my will to keep from thinking about it till the last second. I forced myself to come. I forced myself to witness for myself what events had left me with. Whether he was crippled and sickly or just moments form death, I had prepared myself to see all of it, but I hadn't prepared myself to see what reality gave to me. It gave me probably the one thing I needed most right now. Pure faithless and childish hope. That's right. Hope. We sat in this restaurant, my mind constantly distracting me from what was to come. But no matter what I thought, I would have never expected to see what I did. I caught a glimpse of him in the corner of my eye as he appeared beyond the entrance to the restaurant. No crutches, no wires, no tubes. In fact, no nothing. He stood on his own. He walked in the room completely unhindered. As if nothing had ever happened, he walked in and gave me a smile. I smiled back, somewhat in shock, but not really realizing what was happening. The only thought going through my mind was, "I have to get to him." I stood there for a minute, listening to him speak. Waiting for the others to sit down. Then my legs started to move. Before I could even understand, I had weaseled my way past chairs and people and I stood in front of him. He opened his arms and I reflexively did the same, accepting the invitation for a hug. All at once, it hit me. "He's really here." I thought. "He's alive... he's really alive. I'm not dreaming. It's not a dream. Oh thank god he's really alright. Not dead. He's not dead." I couldn't help myself. I hugged him tightly, tighter and tighter with each thought. I didn't want to let go. I thought I might still be dreaming, just maybe, that tiny chance that it was the happiest dream ever and I didn't want to let go.

I had gotten another chance to get to know him. He was alive! I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried some more. My sweater was soaked by the time I could finally speak and look at him and say "I love you" back without bursting out in tears. Oh god, he's alive! That's all that matters. He's alive. He's really alive.