dearest diary,
i come to you again because of a boy. a boy with soft curly blond hair and square glasses [but only at night]. i felt beautiful yesterday. somehow the combination of my outfit and what my hair was doing and how i saw myself and how the breeze played across my arms in the early morning chill made me happy and ready to take on anything. and this beautiful boy, he had been drinking a little. he came over to moira's and watched family guy with us on the bed and then it was fourthirty in the morning said the clock on the ceiling. two boys were asleep on my shoulders and we softly shook them awake. maggie and i trailed behind him as he weaved his way down the sidewalk to his dorm, inviting us over to watch a movie since his roommate was gone for the weekend. maggie left to go to sleep and i found myself on his bed feeling small and curvy and unsure. he'd said the drunkenness had faded hours earlier but i didn't know what to think when the movie clicked off.

but i think my favorite thing is always the secret talk of lovers in the dark. being silly and creating thousands of inside jokes that will be forgotten when sunlight filters through the windows hours later, the intimacy of extremely relaxed opened minds wrapping themselves around each other like the mouths down below. and being held by strong warm arms, running my fingers through that beautiful soft curly blonde hair and across a stubbly cheek. this haven world, this dream before awakening to the harsh emotional logistical reality outside of this cocoon, this is the place in which i always feel the most content.

and the most beautiful.

past future

last five entries:
blisters and bruises - 03.18.08
dorsey - 03.13.07
finding peace - 02.02.07
unintentional clean slate - 09.11.06
natural born cyborg - 06.23.06