I wish I could have finished this

But the weird abstract feelings that fueled it disappeared, and probably will never return again.

April 9, 2009

Notes left under your windshield wiper, text messages from unknown numbers; you'd rather not know who they're from you kind of like the mysterious beauty of not knowing, you like thinking maybe they're from God. Smiling up at you, buttoning all your jacket buttons which kind of bothers you but you don't care, she smiles, like she has a secret but not in that "I know something you don't know" kind of way it's more like she wants to share it with you. For once. She's the first one where it's felt that way.

You had begun to lose interest in romantic love, the whispers and kisses cheesiness and you had begun to be bored with hearing things about how it's "beautiful" and NOT cheesy and then all of a sudden she's smiling up at you and buttoning your goddamn buttons again which really kind of gets to you and she knows that but she's the only one where you actually get the joke as she elbows you in the side. And it's not really full of whispers and all that cheesiness and kisses and "fiery feelings" and like impassioned sex and that's really quite refreshing. It's really more full of half-full cups of cold coffee and laundry and bad jokes and overcast skies and feeling stale and bored.