Monday, June 11, 2012

blemish, n.

The slight acne scars. The penny-sized, penny-shaped birthmark right above your knee. The dot below your shoulder that must have been form when you had chicken pox in third grade. The scratch on your neck – did I do that?
       This brief transcript of moments, written on the body, is so deeply satisfying to read.

The Lover's Dictionary

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Saturday: TROUSE BROTHERS @ ZOUK! With T and his brother! Bumped into Narm and friends. :D I died. Blue spin and Long Island, you did not fail me.

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z3 z
z2

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Hunter is so freaking adorable. He loves being scratched on his head.

Dinner at Wild Honey on Friday night! The one at Scotts is really better than Mandarin Gallery's.
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English for T.

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European for me.

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I don't say it but I feel so perfectly happy especially when I get to spend time with you alone. We don't have to be watching a movie, checking out a new place, having some romantic candle light dinner, dancing to slow music, or going on a road trip. We don't necessarily have to be doing anything. I could sit next to you doing absolutely nothing and still be immensely contented.

But I want to know how it's like to love someone without being crippled by insecurities.

Sometimes I get upset and release all these months of pent up frustrations. I am skeptical and suspicious and paranoid and negative because I am scared. I reject your willingness to try, I brush away your attempts at reassurances and I refuse to believe sweet nothings that you say, because I am scared. I say NO to many things that you have been trying to tell me, but deep down inside I am hoping as hell that you mean it.

I deny myself things that I clearly want. Because honestly I am incapable of handling the same shit another time.

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