|
|
Tuesday, March 15th, 2005
|
1:36a
There's so much I could say and so much I don't want to - I just want to cradle it all in my mind, stroke the memories until they melt everything else away.
*
I ask, What's it like to be in love? and she tells me it's lovely and terrifying. I ask, How is it lovely?
She says, Because of moments like this - and I shouldn't have to explain that any further, because. This.
(I'm curled on my side, facing away from her. Her left leg is over my hip, her left arm is draped over my side, left hand over my left, fingers overlapping and interlacing. The tip of her nose is against my neck. I feel her lips when she talks and her air when she breathes. I never, ever want to move.)
*
We're at dinner, in Missouri, because I've driven her there. We're having Subway. I'm sitting across from her, trying not to stare because we're in her territory and I've never been here before. I don't want to make her uncomfortable, but I'm not used to looking away from her. Normally I look and I don't blink and I smile softly or grin widely or just look. But, here, I'm trying not to look. I watch her in the reflection of the window.
She's eating her sandwich. I let myself look while she's not paying attention. It will be my secret. I will eat her in a glance. When I make my glance, I shudder. My entire body shudders. To have not looked and then to suddenly take her in - it overwhelms me. I wonder why I'm not more embarrassed. I wonder if she knows.
*
She says, So what am I afraid of? because I've said I know her. She is driving because I am tired. The drive takes six or seven hours total. I think of an answer immediately, but tell myself it is obvious, constant and not exactly a fear. When she says no to everything else, I confess that I don't know. She tells me. It is what I thought of first. I do know.
*
I meet her niece, who is distrustful of me - until I let her knock down my block tower several times. Then she likes me. She tells Kristin to keep busy and turns to me. The niece and I build together.
*
Her father offers me the guest bedroom. Kristin tells me I can sleep with her. We go into the guest bedroom to mess the sheets. We intend to make them look slept in, but end up staying for a while. We do what we always do.
Which is not sex. We lay together. There is a lot of staring. A lot of kisses that are only that. Kisses. I put her arms around her. She puts hers around me. We shift. We are almost always touching. We hold hands with one arm each and wrap the other around us. I love when I roll away and she follows, wrapping herself around me. I love the way I don't feel self-conscious, the way our bodies agree with each other, the way nothing has to be said.
After a while, I change into my pajamas and we go back to her room.
*
My sister makes her play messenger. Kristin says it's fun. We're at my step-grandfather's house for a birthday celebration. I haven't seen the family in months because I don't want to get involved. My mother wanted me to go.
I whisper into Kristin's ear and she takes it to my sister. My sister takes longer to give her responses. I watch Ali and Kristin interacting. I'm jealous of the way my sister can casually touch my girlfriend, put her arm around her shoulder, touch her leg, lean against her - when I have to be discrete, when I can't touch her even that way because it would make people feel uncomfortable. Because my mom doesn't want the children seeing. I watch Ali and Kristin and I ache. I take any kind of contact from anyone I can.
Because I need it.
*
Driving away, I know I'll see her in days. She has to come back because of her car. But.
I miss her breath on my neck, her unguarded, only-for-me facial expressions. Her grins, her voice. Her hands in my hair. Her hands in mine.
(Earlier, when we were both in the car, I took her hand. I'm not supposed to let you while you drive, she said. But she didn't pull away. I rubbed her fingers. I smiled through the windshield.)
current mood: mellow
current music: You Don't Know -- Erin McKeown (1 comment |comment on this)
|
6:12p
First, ( a summary of the weekend. )
Today wasn't as good.
I had something of an episode this morning. I'm not really sure what happened. Mme. Castenson was scheduled to come tutor me this afternoon.
My mom came to wake me up in the morning. She started talking about school, about studying. I panicked. I tried to sleep to get out of it. She wouldn't let me. She pushed. I got up and went downstairs, curled up in the far corner of the dining room. When she found me, she threatened to ground me. She talked more about school. About going back.
When she wasn't looking, I pasted a sign on the window of the front door that read, "Today Won't Work." Then I went up to my room and piled things, chairs, paintings behind the door so that my mom couldn't get in. She shoved against the door so hard that something cracked. She was crying.
Finally, I left the house. I told my mom I was hungry and that I'd be back before my teacher, but in reality, I wasn't planning on coming back until I was sure Madame would be gone. I'm not sure why I came back, but I did and I worked with Mme.
She said afterward that I know the material forward and backward, better than anyone who has been in class. So I guess it went all right, but. I'm still a little freaked out.
As soon as she left, I left too. I went to Borders. And now I'm home, but I still feel restless. My blood is quick, my skin feels like it's crawling. My mind feels like an automated walkway. When my mom was talking earlier, she was saying all of the things that I'm trying to shut out of my head. It makes me feel crazy. She wouldn't stop. She kept going. I know she's scared, I know she doesn't know what to do. But I hate this feeling.
Ugh.
current mood: weird
current music: Whatever You Say -- Over the Rhine (2 comments |comment on this)
|
7:52p
My mom won't stop touching me or talking to me.
I can't even get myself to shut up.
current mood: panicked
current music: It's Never Quite What It Seems -- Over the Rhine (comment on this)
|
|
|
|