he makes me write a journal entry every time i leave in a notebook he had lying around .
why ? i'm not so sure . maybe he's trying to crack my code . maybe he's trying to get into my head so deep that it will drive me crazy in that bad but oh so good way . maybe he's waiting to sabotage me in the future with this intimate evidence like he did the others . i told him that the minute it's all over i'm taking the journal with me . he thinks i'm kidding & then criticizes the crazy things i write while i'm half asleep yet upright & pretending to function . he's never satisfied . i say , i'll never write another entry for you again , but he says one thing that completely slaps that proclamation outta my mouth .
i hate it when he does that , but i drag myself to the journal every time & jot down the first thing that pops into my head upon reading his desired topic . "3 words u would use to describe me" . i picked 3 that started with the letter "i" without having to use that insanely huge unabridged webster's dictionary he keeps under his bed , covered my tracks , & waited all day for his response .
i got the typical biting remark . . . biting only to hide his satisfaction . he . . . the one who is looking for perfection which is based on a long list of "this's & that's" which will probably not even matter in the long scheme of things . even he / she who has a million perfect options has to decide what's most important : conversation , connection , & honesty . with his vocabulary & my imagination the conversation was constantly flourishing . . . the connection was unforced & uniquely genuine that it seemed effortless . as for honesty , well . . . he loved to hear me say , "i don't care . do what u want" because of the hint of freedom it provided , yet he knew that maybe all of this brutal honesty would not allow me to fall as hard as he actually wanted me to . we played a great game of pretend & we both wanted the upper hand at all times . the occasional vulnerability provoked , "awwwws" & long pauses with silly grins & two eager minds filled with "what ifs" counteracted by "no don't do its" . we both set our own limits , or at least we tried to , but somehow we went from wee hour rendezvous' to dinners , dark corner conversations , & pillow talk minus the "pillow talk" , if u will , without missing a beat .
&
despite the disapproval of friends we played the role & kept making plans . calling me during the day just because . . . every night some new "thing" for us to explore together . . . calling each other by our real names . . . no longer confined to late nights , but now daytime visits as well . . . 2-3 nights a week turned into every other night which turned into every night which progressed into "please stay cuz i can't sleep when ur not here tossing & turning every 5 seconds" . insult after insult after insult kissed & made better by 2 pairs of lips so soft it was impossible to keep em off of one another . public & private became one in the same . if the walls & front passenger seat of the car could only talk . . . the double entendres . . . the silent exchange of innocently naughty glances from across the table . . . the constant denial of all these things because this is not what we intended to happen , so why give in to what seems so natural to fall for something we know could eventually break one of our hearts ? we've both willingly shared secrets that send any normal lover running for the hills , but somehow , knowing the worst abt each other is as endearing as knowing the best .
"did u miss me ? " will never warrant a straight answer for fear of being stripped of one's "gangster" ,
so
when would we ever be able to succumb to our hearts
&
tell each other that we're in love ?
never . that's when .
because this is our way of enjoying a vivid recurring dream that we pretend not to have even tho it feels like the real thing . . . . . . . . .
so
now u know why i love to sleep so much . just in case u were wondering .
why ? i'm not so sure . maybe he's trying to crack my code . maybe he's trying to get into my head so deep that it will drive me crazy in that bad but oh so good way . maybe he's waiting to sabotage me in the future with this intimate evidence like he did the others . i told him that the minute it's all over i'm taking the journal with me . he thinks i'm kidding & then criticizes the crazy things i write while i'm half asleep yet upright & pretending to function . he's never satisfied . i say , i'll never write another entry for you again , but he says one thing that completely slaps that proclamation outta my mouth .
i hate it when he does that , but i drag myself to the journal every time & jot down the first thing that pops into my head upon reading his desired topic . "3 words u would use to describe me" . i picked 3 that started with the letter "i" without having to use that insanely huge unabridged webster's dictionary he keeps under his bed , covered my tracks , & waited all day for his response .
i got the typical biting remark . . . biting only to hide his satisfaction . he . . . the one who is looking for perfection which is based on a long list of "this's & that's" which will probably not even matter in the long scheme of things . even he / she who has a million perfect options has to decide what's most important : conversation , connection , & honesty . with his vocabulary & my imagination the conversation was constantly flourishing . . . the connection was unforced & uniquely genuine that it seemed effortless . as for honesty , well . . . he loved to hear me say , "i don't care . do what u want" because of the hint of freedom it provided , yet he knew that maybe all of this brutal honesty would not allow me to fall as hard as he actually wanted me to . we played a great game of pretend & we both wanted the upper hand at all times . the occasional vulnerability provoked , "awwwws" & long pauses with silly grins & two eager minds filled with "what ifs" counteracted by "no don't do its" . we both set our own limits , or at least we tried to , but somehow we went from wee hour rendezvous' to dinners , dark corner conversations , & pillow talk minus the "pillow talk" , if u will , without missing a beat .
&
despite the disapproval of friends we played the role & kept making plans . calling me during the day just because . . . every night some new "thing" for us to explore together . . . calling each other by our real names . . . no longer confined to late nights , but now daytime visits as well . . . 2-3 nights a week turned into every other night which turned into every night which progressed into "please stay cuz i can't sleep when ur not here tossing & turning every 5 seconds" . insult after insult after insult kissed & made better by 2 pairs of lips so soft it was impossible to keep em off of one another . public & private became one in the same . if the walls & front passenger seat of the car could only talk . . . the double entendres . . . the silent exchange of innocently naughty glances from across the table . . . the constant denial of all these things because this is not what we intended to happen , so why give in to what seems so natural to fall for something we know could eventually break one of our hearts ? we've both willingly shared secrets that send any normal lover running for the hills , but somehow , knowing the worst abt each other is as endearing as knowing the best .
"did u miss me ? " will never warrant a straight answer for fear of being stripped of one's "gangster" ,
so
when would we ever be able to succumb to our hearts
&
tell each other that we're in love ?
never . that's when .
because this is our way of enjoying a vivid recurring dream that we pretend not to have even tho it feels like the real thing . . . . . . . . .
so
now u know why i love to sleep so much . just in case u were wondering .