this boy in Simples and a zip-up sweater. bleach blonde hair, spiked all around. Playful, smiling blue eyes. a dimpled chin and hoops in his ears. i dip my spoon into him and devour the all in a mouthful. but i would not be satisfied until I had the whole jar. We lie in bed and cannot get enough. enough touches, kisses, feeling, words, meaning. i told him this morning that we could remain wrapped up for a week and I would still wake up, separate, and feel starved.
i am tired of being left. perhaps not so much a physical thing of the other person physically walking away, breaking it off, etc. (although that too) More like the other person not apprehending my needs. Taking me for granted, or not opening the doors in themselves that i need to walk through. this goes for all my relationships: lovers, friends, parents. I have slipped away from all but a few: slithered by my parents, everyone but Jaylene, Tim, and Wil. Slipped by all the lovers on a seemingly never ending list. Even Jeramy. He left me. Became consumed in his own mental misery, the knowledge that I might leave him. He was so pulled in that he pulled away, giving me nothing but a hurt shell. He left me. I did not leave him. they have escaped from me, and I have slipped away. They have not made an effort to hold on in a way I can be held on to.
Does this make sense? It is hard to type and listen to Elliot Smith at the same time.
JC says he will not leave me. I will try to be less slippery. He has already made me comfortable in his home. I could rest here a while.