The Begining
She starts to type again, realizing suddenly that this blog idea is better when she's not talking in first person. She wonders if he's thinking about her, and wishing that he is. Not knowing is half the fun, the torture is waiting for it...anything to happen. Sometimes she feels like her life has no meaning that she's powerless to change anything. If she could tell the world one thing, it would be that it should love her. Weird, self centred...maybe...but then again she's the one writing about herself like she matters.
Wishing the person she cant mention were here with her...mentioning the person she wishes would come back. And then we all get on with our days, forgetting to wish, and wishing for dreams of each other to come true.
She thinks it's so funny to be taken seriously as she writes about herself like she doesn't exist. She thanks him silently for giving her the idea to write like this, seperating herself from all the drama that isn't real, but means so much to her. Sitting here, remembering a night that fades away from her thoughts but always in her memory. She watches the sun, lower in the sky now...missing him but not knowing who he is.
She wishes she could sing or play an instrument or something useful like that, since she basically lives for listening to music right now. She'll write about it someday she thinks. Stayed home to work on homework today, behind but she'll pass... think... hope...she'dbetter anyway. She wants a cigarette but she's in a towel and isn't allowed to smoke in the house. She doesn't even smoke normally but she still has the cigarettes they bought together. Her mother and stepfather keep taking them to smoke with their martinis at night but they don't like du Mauriers...so why are they stealing her memories of that perfect february night? She thinks it's ridiculous that they're trying to ban smoking in public places, but when she really thinks about it she agrees with it...and only says it's ridiculous to get a reaction out of people. She saw him smoke himself to death, watched him hang on for years and is still haunted by the sight of him lying on a couch waiting for a miracle...waiting to die. She can't decide if she's a hypocrite or just a pleasant contradiction of herself. Hopefully the latter because if not, she wont be able to look at herself in the mirror anymore.
Wishing the person she cant mention were here with her...mentioning the person she wishes would come back. And then we all get on with our days, forgetting to wish, and wishing for dreams of each other to come true.
She thinks it's so funny to be taken seriously as she writes about herself like she doesn't exist. She thanks him silently for giving her the idea to write like this, seperating herself from all the drama that isn't real, but means so much to her. Sitting here, remembering a night that fades away from her thoughts but always in her memory. She watches the sun, lower in the sky now...missing him but not knowing who he is.
She wishes she could sing or play an instrument or something useful like that, since she basically lives for listening to music right now. She'll write about it someday she thinks. Stayed home to work on homework today, behind but she'll pass... think... hope...she'dbetter anyway. She wants a cigarette but she's in a towel and isn't allowed to smoke in the house. She doesn't even smoke normally but she still has the cigarettes they bought together. Her mother and stepfather keep taking them to smoke with their martinis at night but they don't like du Mauriers...so why are they stealing her memories of that perfect february night? She thinks it's ridiculous that they're trying to ban smoking in public places, but when she really thinks about it she agrees with it...and only says it's ridiculous to get a reaction out of people. She saw him smoke himself to death, watched him hang on for years and is still haunted by the sight of him lying on a couch waiting for a miracle...waiting to die. She can't decide if she's a hypocrite or just a pleasant contradiction of herself. Hopefully the latter because if not, she wont be able to look at herself in the mirror anymore.
posted by The Literate Blonde @ 3:34 PM
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