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


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

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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.
English for T.

European for me.


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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