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[22 Nov 2009|03:16pm] |
I had a red cup in my hand, filled to the brim with beer. I was sipping and laughing with my best friends on the face of this planet, near the camp fire. He was sitting on a bench a couple feet away, and he looked at me with his shaggy brown hair and pretty blue eyes and he smiled. And I smiled back. So he walked over and shook my hand and told me his name.
But you know what?
I didn't remember his name.
All I could think of was you. And the way you look at me when we first met. You were in your shiny yellow sports car, with the windows rolled down and your girlfriends bra hanging on the rearview mirror. They said, "chris, this is autumn, autumn this is chris." And you shook your head to the side and smiled at me with your pretty brown eyes (the deepest blue can't even compare) and you said, "sup." And I laughed at you, and I'm laughing right now, thinking of your memory. Thinking of how that instant...that moment, was love.
So, I sip my beer and pretend to pay attention to what this pretty boy is saying. And finally, he says, "what about a guy drives you crazy?" And I half smiled and look at him while taking a sip of my beer and I say, "silence."
And from miles away (your house is down the road) I think I can hear your engine start, driving to your friends' house and maybe to a bar to grab a drink. And maybe for about three seconds I pretend pretty boy is you, and that you drove your car here, to see me.
And then I sip my beer. Its the beer that's talking.
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[17 Aug 2009|11:56pm] |
I still miss him. Every second of every hour of everyday. It's been 4 months since we've spoken, 9 months since he told me he loved me, still, and 11 months since we've been broken up.
How is it possible for one to love someone so immensely that after all the heartache, all the pain, all his mistakes, I'd still take him back without a second thought.
I will never want anyone else.
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[14 May 2009|12:25pm] |
I have just fucked myself in the worst possible way probably ever.
This is what I get.
Fuck you, karma!
Fuck. You.
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| typical. |
[13 May 2009|12:11pm] |
He's hurting. That vulnerable little boy is sitting on his couch with his knees to his chin wondering what went wrong, what his best friend has that he doesn't. He's telling himself all the bad that she did. All the lies she sweetly whispered. All the fucked up shit she put him through. All the boys she fucked since he walked away, all the times she loved rubbing it in his face. His hands cover his eyes and he half wishes she was sitting next to him, with her tiny arm around his shoulder and her lips on the name of his neck. She would sing him to sleep, a kind of comfort he'd never known. He would wrap his arms around her waist, if he could and breathe her in one last time. Just to smell cigarettes and that sweet perfume she just has to wear. It was love, he says. He really did love her.
He sighs, takes a deep breath.
1 2 3,
And then,
She's crying. Begging for forgiveness at his feet. From this angle, she looks so small. He remembers. A smirk crawls across his face and he's trying his hardest not to laugh. What a stupid girl, for thinking he wanted her and everything she came with. What a stupid girl for falling in love with such a heartless, cold, stubborn him. He tells her she doesn't understand. That she will never understand. She will never fucking get it, will she? It's here that he sees the change in her. Her eyes flicker against the light and the tears cease from flowing and she frowns. She's on her own two feet and she says thanks him, for showing her that relationships, and "love," are nothing but pure and utter smelly disgusting bullshit. She half hopes it stings. Half hopes he'll be wounded.
He shrugs his shoulders, smiles that beautiful smile, and says: Glad You Finally Figured It Out.
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[04 May 2009|11:52pm] |
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I close my eyes at night, and lay my head on my pillow. Deep breaths, and he's right there next to me. With his dirty blonde, messy hair and his bright blue eyes, and that smile. And his fingers run themselves over my cheeks down to my neck and my collarbone and he tells me he has never been so in love. So I smile and I shrug my shoulders in that you-make-me-so-happy kind of way, and I hope I wish I pray that this will last forever. Our little moments should last a lifetime, and they would if I could control time. Like that night he stood at the bottom of that spiral staircase with his hand outstretched, or the way he kissed my fingertips after I reached what he said was where I'd always belong. It was never about lust; lust was a part of it but never all of it. It was his smile, and the way it'd warm me up inside, or how perfectly I fit right into his embrace. He'd kiss the top of my head and his chin would always sit on top, and I could feel him smiling. I think about him constantly. His images and our moments never cease to repeat in my memory. But the thing is, sometimes you have to forget what you want and remember what you deserve. I want him, and he doesn't deserve me. Those are the cards I was dealt, I can't change that. But I read his letters sometimes and I wonder what went wrong. May 22nd is in two weeks and he'll either be back in my life or out of it forever. I've never felt so torn.
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[22 Apr 2009|11:48am] |
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My best friend is falling in love with me. He told me so, after two hours of silence on the car ride to chase's and twelve beers into waterfall. He said that everything he's ever wanted in a girl, he sees in me. He says that no other girl compares to me, I'm all he wants and he's not gonna give up because he knows this would work because he's willing to make it work. And after twelve hours of thinking and wondering and contemplating...after six or seven beers, I told him I had feelings, but because of chris and brian I couldn't do it. And then I kept wanting to kiss him or hold his hand...and this morning when I woke up next to him with nothing but blankets covering us, I realized that all he was, all he'll ever be is just another victim in my twisted game I play with myself. He was just number fourteen and nothing more.
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[18 Apr 2009|10:53pm] |
He's a liar.
He's an idiot.
He's a player.
He's a hypocrite.
He's two faced.
He's stupid.
He's a heartbreaker.
He's a piece of shit.
He's a cheater.
He's a sweet talker.
He's a womanizer.
He's a good-for-nothing.
But I'm an idiot,
Because even after catching him with her, I'm still head over heels.
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[16 Apr 2009|01:50pm] |
See, the thing about me is that I have to make mistakes in order to understand what I have and what I need.
and after all this potential damage,
I've never been so sure of anything in my life:
A) I'm an idiot.
B) I've been in love a lot but I'm unconditionally heels over head for you and
C) you're all I'll ever need.
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[13 Apr 2009|09:38pm] |
I hate being so pessimistic.
So doubtful.
So worried,
So insecure.
But she's beautiful.
And he's gorgeous.
And we just don't fit, I think sometimes,
But he reminds me so constantly of the warmth he pushes into my veins,
And I hope and wish and pray that I'm not in this for nothing.
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[11 Apr 2009|01:39pm] |
Oh god. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, and now he's going to hate me, and leave me...and I'm so scared. I don't wanna lose him, I'm so scared.
God, help me.
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[10 Apr 2009|03:17pm] |
He is good for me. He makes me laugh, and he makes me so happy, and he makes me feel so alive, and carefree. And I love him in a way I've never loved anyone else. He makes he want to change, and he makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to try harder.
He's just so worth it.
But he's just not Chris.
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[02 Apr 2009|11:19pm] |
I feel like crying all the time. And I don't know if its because every street sign every song every word every face every store every show every photo every mile literally everything reminds me of him. I read his letters everyday, three times a day. I scan the pages for hidden messages and I read little phrases like "baby you're amazing" or "just catching a quick glimpse of you would make my day" or "I can't wait to see you and kiss you, baby" and I overanalyze and I pick and pick and pick and I worry and I start crying sometimes, bawling crying panic crying hysterical crying and I put the letters in my lap and my head in my hands and I whisper why why why and then sometimes I don't cry sometimes I look at the letter he wrote her and I see that there's no pictures no doodles just "hey beckybabe...I miss you and love you too...we will see each other again one day and get married...love you babe!" And my stomach knots all big and I want to find becky and punch her in her face because brian's mine. He's my babe, my boyfriend (kind of), my best friend, my everything and she can't have him. I will fight her for him. But I remember how absolutely gorgeous she is and sometims I start crying, because I'm scared of losing him. Especially to her. I'm scared of losing the way he looks at me and kisses me and holds me and says "baby." And I think back to the time at the Needle where he waited at the bottom of the staircase and outsretched his hand and led me down the rest of the stairs and kissed my hand and fingers and said "we're so perfect." I'm so scared and I think and I pick and I cry and I worry.
I always fuck things up.
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| this is going to soundcrazy. |
[16 Mar 2009|11:20pm] |
Actually, it might sound slightly insane.
Because I've never believed in love at first sight. I've never seen or felt all that bullshit they describe to you in movies, about two star crossed lovers crossing paths at a rock concert or someone falling in love with a bet they made.
Fuck that.
But here's the thing.
I've been going nuts lately trying to figure this out. Because there's a fine line between love and lust, and I've crossed that line plentyyyy of times.
But
I just can't get him out of my head. That first night mike brought him around when david and I were at gypsy's. He was wearing his blue and white striped sweatshirt, stealing all my damn cigarettes. I remember he got up and said, "I'm gonna go get bill" and he came back wearing a Clinton mask and I was laughing so hard he thought I was high.
Or when we played beer pong at roger's, I went with him to walmart to get pong balls. He passed by the gameroom, and we played the crane game, and he won me a purple dinosaur that looks like barney that is sitting in the back of my trunk. Later that night, he was my beer pong partner, and every time we'd make it, he'd pull me against his chest and squeeze me so tight.
We got drunk later that week, and we were sitting in the backseat of my car. Mike was driving because I was too shitfaced to drive. Brian was wearing my black peacoat, and he kissed my cheek, and text me about it 2 seconds later saying, "awww, I just kissed you :)." We made out that night, and it was hot, and passionate, and I've never felt so....electric? Kissing someone before.
Or how the next day we went to austin and he held my hand the entire way there, the entire time at the skate park, and the entire way home. And when I got angry cause his ex called, and he wanted to drop me off with the guys, he kept texting me apologizing. Saying she was bullshitting he hates her he hella likes me please come to lbj. And when he busted his ass doing stunts just so I would kiss him.
Or when we sat in MEPS waiting for him to ship out, we played house of the dead, and he shot at the zombies shouting, "stay away from my girl!!!" He kissed me and held my hand and my face and kept saying "Ill miss you so much" and he blew a kiss walking down the hallway to the exit towards the bus.
Every time I see a couple, or a sappy love scene in a show or movie, or hear a fucking song on the radio, his face comes to mind. And I always miss him. Or always wish he was here. And I can't get him out of my head, literally. Everything I say or do or think, the only other words out of my mouth are "awww brian!"
When logan and mike and nelson and roger told me I was the girl for him, I didn't freak out, or get scared.
I actually got excited.
Fuck.
I think I'm in love.
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[10 Feb 2009|04:06pm] |
He's there. Standing in the street, against his beat up honda civic, with a cigarette balanced in between those two perfect lips. He has his Oakleys on and his hands are shoved inside his pockets, and he is waiting. He is waiting and smoking, and pacing, and waiting. And I see him, and my heart drops. My heart drops and melts and breaks and dances and pounds inside my chest. He sees me and he smiles, the biggest smile I have ever seen since we drove around listening to music his very last night at home. His arms open and I run into them and I wrap my arms around his neck and I breathe him in. I breathe in his cologne and the smoke, and soak in the way he says I Missed You. And he kisses the top of my head and he pulls away and smiles and I can't stop crying or laughing or smiling and i say I Love You and he says I Love You too.
and then I wake up.
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[27 Jan 2009|08:52pm] |
no matter how hard i try
no matter what i do
who i'm with
where i go
i see him.
everywhere.
florida license plates. florida vacations. michael. mike. mikey.
keystone beer. 151 and potranco.
what the fuck.
i still miss him.
i still love him.
i just can't shake the feeling that we're meant to be together.
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[21 Sep 2008|01:35pm] |
It was almost love.
I should be thankful he pushed me away before it got too serious.
I just wish he wasn't all I could fucking think about.
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[15 Sep 2008|11:15am] |
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I pull into the driveway, and he's sitting against the hood of his car smoking a cigarette. One hand is shoved inside his pocket, and his face is so somber when he takes a drag. My heart is racing. I pull the key out of the ignition. Jessika is smoking a cigarette, too, so she gets out of the car and walks around to sit on my trunk. He looks so gorgeous when he walks over to me. My heart is still racing. I don't get out of my car, instead I just open the door and I let my feet barely touch the pavement. He's looking at me, and I can tell he's angry. But I'm angry, too. We're making small talk, and he makes a smart ass comment about what happened on Friday night, so I say, "Well, if someone wasn't too busy playing strip poker with two other chicks trying to get them naked, I wouldn't have woken up where I did." He laughs. He laughs, and it makes me want to cry, but I blink them back and I bite my lip like I always do to stop myself from crying. He laughs and says, "You were well aware of your actions. Stop blaming me for your shit." Jessika walks away, because I know she feels awkward. But without my best friend, I feel so weak. The second she's out of sight I start to cry. I get out of the car, and I tell him, "Do you know what happened last time I got that drunk, and passed out next to someone like him?" He says, "What?" And I tell him...and I start crying even harder because I hate remembering what happened, and he says, "I'm sorry." But that's all. He doesn't even sound like he means it. And he's making me so angry, so I take his ring off, and I shove it inside his front pocket. His eyes...his eyes look so mad. They're looking right past every lie I'm telling. He says, "This is an excuse to leave me for Chris." And it's not, I want to tell him it's not, but maybe I'm not quite sure. All that I'm sure of, is that I don't want to keep falling for this person, because this person is leaving in three months. He says, "Whatever, have a nice life," and walks away. So I get into my car, and I start driving off, but I can't leave him. I can't bring myself to walk away. So I put it in park. Jessika automatically knows, she walks to the car and gets in the driver's seat. By the time my small footsteps reach his car, I can't see anything in front of me. My vision is blurry, and my face feels swollen, and I can't understand a word I'm saying. I just want him to hold me. So, he does, but he doesn't even kiss the top of my head, or squeeze me against him the way he always does. Instead, he pats my back and says, "Goodbye." And I want so badly to tell him how I feel, but I can't. I just throw my arms around my neck and hope that he won't let me leave. I hope that he'll say, "Autumn, wait..." But when I walk back to my car, he lights up another cigarette, pops open a beer, and puts his hand up in a half-assed wave. Jessika is driving and I'm sobbing, and she rubs my back and she tells me, "It's going to be okay." But I shake my head. My phone starts ringing. Jesus Christ That's a Pretty Face. And I say "Hello?" and Chris says, "Baby, what's wrong?" I look back at Michael, so small in his driveway, now...and I tell Chris, "Nothing. Nothing I'm fine."
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[07 Sep 2008|01:17pm] |
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I've never seen you look more beautiful than when the sunlight breaking through the leaves of those trees hit your face. You were smiling over your shoulder, and your hand stretched out so that I could fit mine within it. Step by step through the mud and over the logs and through the creek, nothing ever seemed more perfect. Or, maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it was just that being there with you, in that park with the logs and the mud and the creek and the trees that created picture perfect sunlight, made me happy. I feel half way guilty when I say, "This is so pretty," and you turn around and you say, "Not as pretty as you." Or, I feel half-way sad when you kiss me with our footsteps near the shallow shore. I have to tip-toe. You walk up a hill, and there's a tiny river flowing down a bed of rocks, and it makes me wish that you and I could stay here all day. You tell me there used to be a cave underneath there, but they filled it up. I nod, and I smile, and you keep walking. You tell me we can stay here, if i want. But I know you want to leave, because you come here all the time, so I follow your big footsteps, and you don't even try to hold my hand. I turn around, because I don't remember where this park is. And i soak in the picture of the sunlight weaving through the leaves, with the pretty creek making its music, and the happy families down there laughing, and I remember it. You say, "Let's go," and on the bench in front of your car it says, "Love never fails." I think it's failing me this time.
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[27 Aug 2008|11:08pm] |
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I hate remembering. Your face, your eyes, your hair, your smile. Your voice, especially. Those songs. Blasting on the stereo, with cigarette smoking lingering in the background. I tell myself all the time to Move On, Autumn. But it never works. A tiny, microscopic part of me wishes you hadn't made the mistakes you did. Those words you said to her. I can't get them out of my head. Over, and over, I replay the things you said when I found out. You Fucked Mike, Autumn. But does that matter? Or maybe it never did. I close my eyes and I breathe and I block your voice out and he's there, now. With his bright blue eyes. Those pretty, pretty blue eyes that get whatever they want from me. I can forget you. I will forget you. But how the fuck can I do that when I can't stop missing you 5% of the time?
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[16 Aug 2008|02:53am] |
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It's humid outside. His shirt is off and his brown skin glows even in the dark.
My eyes avoid the obvious. Even looking hurts.
He takes a drag of his cigarette and his blue eyes look my way. He says,
"I thought you were worth it. But I was wrong."
My stomach
d
r
o
p
s.
Five hundred words, five million tears, one big compromise.
Give it all up.
The grass in his backyard is really green, and it reminds me of summer
and how summer is him, now.
And summer is all we have. I tell him, "I don't regret you."
He laughs.
God, that laugh...
Winter is coming soon. When summer's over so are we.
I close my eyes and I envision his departure, with his hands around my waist and my arms around his neck and a kiss that won't last forever.
Half way across the country. "I have to leave you behind," He says.
My chest heaves up and down.
Then, he says, "How's Chris?"
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