So we had a movie date last night. I know you don't like me to call it that, but it doesn't matter what it's called, just matters what it was.

And it was a lot of fun. You said you had a good time, I hope that's true. I had a good time. A really good time. I wish i would have realized before how much fun it can be to actually see each other even when we can't visit.

On a completely different note - it hurts me when i think you're compromising yourself. You just aren't the country music type - don't pretend.

ok, last post for tonight i hope.

i'm worried about letting you read this. I've been too open and too honest and it freaks me out. I'm afraid you'll think i'm crazy and you won't understand.

I'm not obsessed. I just get something in my head and have trouble letting it go.
Right now - I have you in my mind, and I really don't want to let you go.

I just want to be ridiculously happy with you. And i won't settle for less.

real poem

some nights i think about forever
with you
i wonder if i would truly be happy
my hang up
is my image
i care too much about being an exact
certain replica
of the perfect life that i envision
you don't meet those specific criteria
you don't even try
2.5 kids
and a white picket fence
in the suburbs
i could do that some day
i really could
doesn't mean it's where i'm at today
doesn't make me love you any less
doesn't mean i wouldn't sacrifice
what i want
to be happy
really, i just want to be happy
completely, uncontrollably
someday
i'm not sure i'll get there
without you

love me

you're pretty when i'm drunk
you're pretty win i'm drunk
and i'm pretty fucking drunk
the end.

go back away.
come back today.
you're kinda gay.
that's not true.

i'm trying to write a poem
about how i feel
but stacey keeps fingering the keyboard
and i have to hit delete too often
i love stacey

stacey needs counseling
she says this is not a poem
she is a bitch

Would it matter if I could see myself marrying you someday?

Scandinavian Festival was fun. Took some pictures - but just of Stacey and I. We're real conceited that way.

I've been trying extremely hard not to bother you, not to interfere with the time your having, but it's really hard.

I don't know why it's so hard right now. It's not like I have any burning questions or am dying to see what your doing. I am really curious, but I can deal with that.

I just want to say hi, and hear hi back, or even better to hear the sound of your voice. And see what emotion I can detect in it - so I can jump to ridiculous assumptions.

We're so different. If I were you, my weekend would be all over facebook. It's probably good that it's not, it would make it easier for me to jump to ridiculous conclusions.

Anyway, I'm lonely. And i miss you. Come home soon.

I woke up this morning in the middle of a dream that felt like it had been going on all night long. I didn't want to wake up, because then it would be over. I laid in bed for a least half an hour trying to relive the details and keep that dreamy state with me.

I can't remember the details as strongly as I felt them in that weird state between awake and asleep, but you were here. And we were happy - together. Both of us at our happiest, only at the same time.

Everything was slow - excruciatingly slow, but in a way that made it perfect. It was like real time, only slowed down - to the point that one kiss lasted like 5 minutes.

Now I'm out of bed and feel awkward. I'd really like to find out if we could ever actually be this happy, or if it really is just all in my head.

baseball, etc.

Three Things:

1.) So, I had an awesome time at the baseball game. I think you would really like sitting in the all you can eat pavilion - and it has nothing to do with the food. Yes, we did gorge ourselves on tons of food that was just so-so, but the best part was the excitement of all the people around us. It didn't matter whether the right fielder was doing well or messing up - the heckling did not stop. I've never sat that close to the field before - it was nice. Way better than the nosebleed section.

Whenever you decide to come visit, we should go to a game and sit in that section. It's definitely worth the $30 bucks.

2.) I have an itch that I really need you to scratch. A big one. And i'm pretty sure you're the only one who can reach it. It's okay if you won't, I can at least pretend.

3.) I had a really good day today - but I still felt like something was missing. I think it's you.

I've been playing Farmville and getting ready to get ready for the baseball game tonight. And i miss you.

Even something as stupid as playing farmville, is better when I do it with you. It's probably the dorkiest thing ever, but sometimes when we sit on the phone and just do our stupid farmville stuff, I don't feel like the entire world is ending. It's just normal, no frills, and perfect.

I know I seem like i require so much more. I'm sorry that it never seems like i enjoy or appreciate the simple easy things. I really do. I get so hung up on the image I want to have, that I'm not myself.

Kinda like every single time you've ever gotten me flowers. I'm sorry I didn't act appreciative. I actually really like them - they make me feel special, and loved. And that's hard for me to accept. I don't like myself so it's hard to understand that anyone else would ever like me.

I don't think I can ever make up for all the lack of appreciation and apathy I've consistently shown. I wish i could. I wish just telling you that I didn't mean it was enough. I know it wouldn't be enough for me if it were the other way around either. I always want some gigantic gesture. I would give you a gigantic gesture if I didn't firmly believe it would be rejected. The idea of showing up on your doorstep and you not wanting to touch me is devastating. At least in my head, I can pretend that isn't so.

every single night we fight
to get a little high on life
to get a little something right
something real
at least we try

trying only matters
if it's getting us somewhere
are we trying to get something right
something real

what is it exactly that we're trying to do?

Questions

Sometimes, I just want to ask questions.

I'm watching "How I Met Your Mother". I've seen a few episodes now, but I still have a burning question.

Who is "I"? I am positive it is not Barney.
Who is "your mother"?

I know i could just look this up on the internet, but I'd rather have you tell me.
Even though i may pretend to not care. I like when you tell me things.
I like that you know things. Which is why I always rely on you with my questions. Even when I should know that you won't be able to answer. Even if you just look it up online and tell me, it still makes you seem awesome to me.

Two Hands

Two hands
to wrap around me
arms that reach all the way around
interlocking fingers that grip mine
in appearance, just like everyone else

but when they come to life
everyone else disappears
your hand slips over mine
and covers it like a glove
my hand fitting neatly inside
like it was engineered to do so
your arms around me when I sleep
seem superhuman
somehow they can reach
from the tip of my toe
to the top of my head
and everywhere in between
lingering in between
lingering
living in that state
between awake and asleep
where we’re alone
everything looks pristine
as long as you don’t let go

Let go
so you hands can roam
massaging me to sleep
or exciting me awake
investigating, teasing
luring me into you
then pulling away
I can feel the ridges of your fingerprints
long after your hands are gone
like an invisible tattoo
they mark me, scar me
as yours
I want my hands to do the same
to mark you, scar you
label you as mine
but my ridges are softer
less remarkable
and are forgotten even before
the morning comes