Meet a boy who scores a perfect nine – dimpled smile, curl of hair that falls just above his right eye, contagious laugh, firm hands, good with girls, knows it, but still genuinely nice, and no surprise, hard to get. Meet him like it’s the first time even though it isn’t because he was your best friend’s prom date back in ’08 and he even sat across from you. See him every weekend, become fast friends, and fall into a routine of exchanging second-too-long kisses on the cheek and squeezes on the waist before remembering that you’re on the job and you don’t want people to see and make false assumptions. Convince yourself that you don’t want to be “that” kind of girl anymore and be proud when you go home alone and forget him for the next six days because you have a life and so does he.
Wake up, dress up, and go to work. Pretend not to notice him as he walks right through the sea of people with his eyes strangely locked on you. He’ll give you his usual not-so-secret display of affection and as you start walking away, you’ll find that his arm is still around you. But don’t think anything of it. Allow him to sweet-talk you because this close call has happened before and you’ve always been able to say no. When you start giving in, remind yourself that your friend likes him and what was that two-letter word I was supposed to say again?
Let him whisk you away with his own version of “let’s get out of here” and wonder if people saw or are seeing but don’t you dare turn around now because there’s no going back. The rest of the night will play out like The Fast and the Furious meets The Notebook – exciting, dangerous, and passionate. Lie in bed and talk about how you two almost died driving too fast on the road, if he carries all his girls up the stairs, how school is, etc. But immediately end it when you start enjoying talking to him too much. You can’t have that. So you’ll say something like it’s getting late and we should probably go to sleep and you’ll turn your back on him because you really don’t like this part where you have to wait ‘til the next day to say goodbye. Don’t freak out when he pulls you in his arms with a “come here” and “bet you didn’t think I was sweet but I am” and then kisses you goodnight on the forehead. You’ll laugh because boy does this scene feel familiar only you are not falling for this again.
Act like a couple on a nice summer day, half-naked on his balcony – cigarettes for him and a cold glass of water for you. Meet his dad on the way to the front door and give him your practiced smile because you know that coming down in neatly tied hair, borrowed sneakers, and a newly washed face isn’t fooling anyone. Genuinely smile as he gets up from the couch, gives you a light kiss on the cheek, and tells you how glad he is to meet you. You’ll find this a bit odd – err yes, I did just come from your son’s bedroom – but decide not to analyze it further because of course there is nothing wrong with this picture at all.
Then a 30-minute ride home will suddenly become three hours as you take a series of wrong turns and get extremely lost because just your luck, you both have no sense of direction. Panic for a good five minutes after the first thirty when you find out you’re stuck in the car and have no choice but to converse. But surprisingly, time will fly right on by and you won’t run out of things to say. Not even close.
Hug goodbye and hold the kiss because you’ll see each other again soon anyway. When you finally lie in your own bed, don’t think about how nice it was to wake up to him and his charming family, so accepting and so good at not making things awkward. Or how you very rarely sleep this well outside of home. You’ll smile a little and be happy about your past 24 hours because this is normal and you won’t really know how else to feel. But at the end of the day, you’ll erase those feelings. You don’t do feelings, remember? Feelings are complicated and you don’t do complicated either. So don’t ever think, just do. You’ll find peace in indifference and when come the chance, do it all again.
One for the grown and sexies. “Strip” - A Chris Brown Cover Peace, love and lol. ————— GABE BONDOC LIVE! PORTLAND, OR - 3/20/12 Dolores Winningstad Theatre TICKETS! - http://bit.ly/GBLIVEPDX
♥♥♥ Just had to share this because he’s come such a long way from when I first started listening to him back in the early days of high school. Still amazing as ever.
“I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn’t, not really. Only the smudgeness of it; the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it’s the halves that halve you in half. I didn’t know, don’t know, about the in-between bits; the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me.”
One day again, maybe never, because now I don’t know if we even ever had it at all. Note to self and you better fucking remember it this time: If it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
She was not good on the phone. She needed the face, the pattern of eyes, nose, trembling mouth… People talking were meant to look at a face, the disastrous cupcake of it, the hide-and-seek of the heart dashing across. With a phone, you said words, but you never watched them go in.
I met you in November. Tall figure in the back of the auditorium; you weren’t hard to miss. Within 5 minutes, “Introduce me.” quickly followed my initial “Who’s that?” As my guy friend walked me to you - mind racing, heart thumping (no, seriously) - all I could think of was, What the fuck am I doing? Am I ready for this? But none of those feelings mattered as you curled up the corners of your mouth, firmly shook my left hand, and gave me your name. For the first time in months, I smiled effortlessly (even laughed a bit inside) and suddenly found myself in the long unfamiliar in-between of still-kind-of-not-really-sad and happy.
I didn’t see you again for the next 3 months, but I thought of you a few times. I even half-jokingly asked your friends to set us up - admittedly, more times than once. It never happened and I honestly didn’t mind dismissing you as “the crush that got away”. But I saw you again in February, in the blurry haze of a two-minute conversation. I gave you a hesitant I-wonder-if-he-remembers-me “Hello.” (complete with awkward hand wave), drunkenly stumbled through a few more words that I don’t remember, and then, “Bye.” I guess we just weren’t meant to be.
But fate finds ways to bring people together again. And now here we are, the You. and Me. turned into You and Me, like the best third chance that any two people could ever get. Almost like a dream, almost like I had been waiting for this to happen for a very long time, and it finally has. But you’re the one that came after [that] one. You don’t get to come in so easily. So slow down with the holding of my hand in public, the kissing of my forehead, and the calling me beautiful. Because it’s affecting me in ways that I don’t want to understand. Because it’s making me want to run away more and more everyday.
But they say, “If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives.” So, here we are, and here you are, and here I am, asking myself the same question I never got to answer last November, Am I ready for this?
![And I told myself I wouldn’t write about you.I met you in November. Tall figure in the back of the auditorium; you weren’t hard to miss. Within 5 minutes, “Introduce me.” quickly followed my initial “Who’s that?” As my guy friend walked me to you - mind racing, heart thumping (no, seriously) - all I could think of was, What the fuck am I doing? Am I ready for this? But none of those feelings mattered as you curled up the corners of your mouth, firmly shook my left hand, and gave me your name. For the first time in months, I smiled effortlessly (even laughed a bit inside) and suddenly found myself in the long unfamiliar in-between of still-kind-of-not-really-sad and happy. I didn’t see you again for the next 3 months, but I thought of you a few times. I even half-jokingly asked your friends to set us up - admittedly, more times than once. It never happened and I honestly didn’t mind dismissing you as “the crush that got away”. But I saw you again in February, in the blurry haze of a two-minute conversation. I gave you a hesitant I-wonder-if-he-remembers-me “Hello.” (complete with awkward hand wave), drunkenly stumbled through a few more words that I don’t remember, and then, “Bye.” I guess we just weren’t meant to be.But fate finds ways to bring people together again. And now here we are, the You. and Me. turned into You and Me, like the best third chance that any two people could ever get. Almost like a dream, almost like I had been waiting for this to happen for a very long time, and it finally has. But you’re the one that came after [that] one. You don’t get to come in so easily. So slow down with the holding of my hand in public, the kissing of my forehead, and the calling me beautiful. Because it’s affecting me in ways that I don’t want to understand. Because it’s making me want to run away more and more everyday.But they say, “If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives.” So, here we are, and here you are, and here I am, asking myself the same question I never got to answer last November, Am I ready for this?](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1bp9nG5Ad1qhbqd9o1_500.png)
