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By Ali Date: 2007 Sep 14 Comment on this Work [[2007.09.14.08.42.7596]] |
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So, it's eight o'clock in the morning, and I'm sitting on my bedroom floor--drinking coffee (don't ask why I'm sitting on my bedroom floor. I just am). You know me, without my morning cup of java, I don't function all that well. Call it an addiction; I've got one or two, or three...but, really, who is counting? I've been thinking again--not necessarily because I want to, but because I just can't shut my mind off. Or mute it. Believe me, I've tried. Everything feels so strange, lately. You're there. I'm here. And I wonder if you're thinking of me. I'd like to think that you miss the smile I bring to your face, or the laugh that always seems to escape your lips. I love your laugh. Have I ever told you that? Anyway, I'd like to think you are thinking of me, especially since I can't seem to get you out of my mind. I mean, really--talk about a hostile takeover, or an invasion. What's a girl to do? Anyway, my point is...every time my phone rings, I think it might be you. Every time I hear 'you've got mail,' I think it might be you. But so far, it's not. And so, I wonder. Too many things. And left to my own thoughts and devices...I can, very well, jump to conclusions. Maybe I've been doing this all wrong, I know--but I'm not making any apologies for that. I exist in the only way I know how. I may fly off the handle, just a little bit, every once and a while--I'm human. Ethereal and kick-ass, but human, nonetheless. And really, if you read carefully between my lines, it's all just for show. I...I'm trying to get a reaction out of you. I don't like fighting, but I want you to fight with me; I want you to loosen up, to let go, to drop your guard more. I know--you're not good at the emotions. And unless I miss my guess, you've gone too long without having to reveal yourself, fully. And maybe no one's given you a real opportunity to do so, for whatever reason. Because in order to open yourself up to someone, really and truly in a naked way, you have to trust them. In order to trust, you have to let go. It's a catch-22, I guess. A paradox. Something that isn't, but it is. When it comes down to it, I reach out to people; no matter the circumstance or tone, it's never an idle gesture. I overextend and overexpose, perhaps, because I don't think enough people take chances. Not with their hearts and not with themselves. There's always a chance I'll get hurt when doing that; I accept that risk. It's all about risk. And men, generally, tend to calculate odds; I, on the other hand, don't approach it so mathematically. I think about the things I want/need...I think about what could be. More importantly, I feel. And then jump headlong into whatever is before me. Maybe that's a shitty way to doing things, but it's my way. I've talked too much, again. I don't even know what my point is. To simply say 'I miss you' is too...lackluster. The truth is, in some ways, I don't want to have to miss you--because I always want you to be there. I know that is, for many reasons, an unreasonable expectation. I lead with my heart, which doesn't always make sense. I don't know how it happened--that I wake up thinking about you. And, you know, I don't even know what to do about it. So, I'm sitting on my floor, drinking coffee...writing this. |