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something different

there was something different about my best friend tonight.

he kept his arm around my shoulders, like always, and he was smiling, like always.

he had said, “you look great,” earlier, like always, whether i was getting ready to go out or was about to spend the whole day in my ratty t-shirts.

he teased me, like always, about how i’d kept my groundhog-colored hair when we were eight years old.

he let me lean on his shoulder, like always, while i talked to him about Kurt.

he thought i couldn’t see the twinge of jealousy in his eyes.

he lent me his handkerchief, like always, during the goodbye scenes of the movie, while mock-sighing and muttering about how i should get myself some gal pals.

“i’ve already got you, haven’t i?” i asked, and he laughed.

i had always wondered why his girlfriends hated me,and vice versa. he had always wondered why my boyfriends always hated him. there was something different about my best friend.

i thought tonight, we would finally get some answers.

he drove me home, like always, and i stayed in my seat, like always.

he opened my door and walked me to the front porch, like always.

he leaned in closer, and i closed my eyes. i thought something different would happen.

instead, i felt him kiss my forehead, like always, say goodnight, and smile, like always, except his smile seemed a little bit broken.

i smiled back and waved goodbye, like always, but my heart seemed a little bit broken.

there had been something different about us tonight, and there will forever be.

May. 1st, 2010

should i let myself fall over again?

should i let my heart get broken twice,

just to look again,

into your beautiful, beautiful eyes?

-nov 12, 2008, cheering day


i’ll never get the chance

to see your eyes again

time keeps pulling us apart

your heart is in a different place

and you should follow where it leads

i’ll just wait for you here

the sky is crashing down

i’m falling into clouds

but how do i say goodbye?

the moon is within reach

if i let go of earth

and so i will, i’ve waited long enough

it’s coming and it’s coming fast

the moon is all i see

but i’m holding you…

1:23 am

he's amazing! he's perfect! he's wrong!

he's too nice
too good, too perfect.
the teachers love him
the girls giggle
when he walks by.
he's amazing
smart, too perfect
but he isn't you.
there's no bounce in his step
when he's walking
his smile doesn't reach his eyes.
he's amazing
but he's too perfect.
the girls shove me
onto him
i sigh, roll my eyes
and then fake a smile.
he takes my hand
(didn't feel a thing)
didn't feel the urge to laugh.
he's amazing
he's perfect
he's boring
he's plain.
he isn't you.
he's amazing,
he's responsible,
he's smart
but i'm tired of it.
i miss you:
your unpredictability
your eyes in the sun
he's nice, he's good
he's perfect;
he's wrong!
i can't picture him
walking down the beach
with me
holding my hand
or punching my shoulder
i see your face instead of his.
i can't picture him
playing with my little sis
i see your face instead of his.
what i'm trying to say,
i guess,
is he's wrong for me;
it's you i want and miss.

said you were gonna hurt
but you didn't listen
now your heart's broken.
rid yourself of the blindness
that makes you fail to see
there's more to us than just this.
you're crying your heart out
blubbering on and on through tears.
but i don't feel the urge to say
"told you so, but you didn't hear."
i want to take your hand
and tell you i'm sorry
though i knew i wasn't wrong.
i want to wrap my arms around you
and tell you not to worry
though i'm not sure what the future holds.
i want to wipe the tears away;
your vision's turning blurry
and play you a little love song.
but i can't, and it's killing me.
you don't want me the way
i want you.
can't make that first move
that risks us from head to foot.
i want to make it better,
draw you the picture
of you, and me, and us
so you would finally understand.
but i can't,
and it's killing me.
it's killing us both.

august 20, 2009

anyway, here are the pathetic poems from forever..er, the last time i was here.

"of course i'm crying,
what else did you expect?
everyone's lives
are moving except mine.

of course i'm crying,
you know me better than that.
when the heart's been torn,
there's not other choice.

of course i'm crying,
what the hell did you expect?
that i'd be laughing,
smiling, and jumping around?

of cour'se i'm crying,
'cause when the ight dies down,
and the curtains close,

there's fresh pain, fresh tears,
it's all too much, too real to ignore."

--i wrote this sept 18

Writer's Block: Childhood Firsts

What was your first word?

it's quite embarrassing.
BAHO. that actually means stinky, in our language. haha.


hey guys.. i wrote this on may 14..

this is all just dawning on me all over again -- we had countless days and hours ahead of us, but, due to some cruel mismanagement of destiny, he'd had to leave. it's as if my life it just a big, cruel joke, and there's just no escaping the punchline.

i feel a sick pressure in my stomach like someone just punched me in the gut. my eyes are stinging from all of the unshed tears, for all the what-ifs and could've-beens. my breathing is turning shallow; i try to keep from crying. our names were written on the same dang list, for hundreds of activities we were supposed to do together. it just proves the ton of things we have in common. Junior year was supposed to be MY year, my best year ever. FATE..curse you..why?..why?.. it's so much fresh pain, fresh regret to realize it over and over again.

our lineup: endless hours of practicing declamation pieces, extemporaneous speeches.. --they sound heavenly to me. a heaven that once was so close, now melted away from my arms. i feel the urge to cry again. and now this -- an EXCLUSIVE debating workshop for three whole days away from home, for whole hours, now gone forever. we had a future; HAD being the operative word. my nose warms up and turns scarlet, initiating my now blurred eyes to release my diamond tears.

moment of reconciliation: on 2011. argh. my cheeks bloom into a pretty shade of rose, but i am not in the disposition to appreciate it. there are holes in my heart. one left behind by v, and the other, just a small hole, seemingly increasing every time i feel the painful whip of memories and regret as a fresh slap in the face.

i break down, neck bent, shoulders slumped, and wet, silent, painful tears streaming down my face.

Writer's Block: When I Grow Up

Do you ever do anything now that you swore you would never do when you were younger? What is it?
i think i promised myself that i would never, never eat escargot, but now i do, only infrequently..

Writer's Block: Home Cooking

When was the last time you cooked for yourself? What did you make?
i think i "cooked" my special potato pie last october, hahaha. i made tiramisu last month but i don't think that counts. oh, and the instant noodles, but i don't think those count, either.