bold enough

I was just being ironic when I told you

that I loved you.

the way your flesh lit beneath the yellow stars

casting moonlight shadows under your eyes

illuminating your lips’ lust twitches

that made me shiver.

in anticipation

of fingers sliding together

and toes touching frozen to warmth.

my heart skipped blipped and slowed.

you whispered in my ear

“this is only for tonight”

and I knew

that you were just being ironic

the way your jaw muscles clenched and unclenched

nervously waiting for my response.

we laid in the summer grass while the dew

collected on our summer skin

while we watched the summer sunrise hand in hand.

I had a really good weekend in montana.

I think I might be feeling inspired to start writing. and maybe even posting it on this thing. we’ll see. :)

On Thursday I will be heading out to Montana to spend time with a friend and then to drive back to campus. This makes me incredibly happy. My love of road trips will come through in my photo taking.

I’m really excited to take several pictures of the open road. I just LOVE it. How could anyone hate driving? I’m not quite sure why I love it so much. The rush of being in control of something so fast and powerful just gets me goin’.

I’m a fan of this weekend.

i still care for you.

always will.

There is this man who walks around our neighborhood. His left leg has been reconstructed out of metal and he is blind. He is usually smiling and seems content. His guiding stick lets him know where the corners are and his sense of hearing tells him when people are around. Sometimes I get to see him walking from a distance and I watch him get closer. His confidence in knowing the land astonishes me. He knows what street he is on without needing to see street signs, he can hear the car coming from a mile away. He just knows. This most likely resulted from years of learning and adjusting, but then I begin to wonder when he lost his vision and his leg. Is he happy? Does he have a lover? What is his greatest joy? Is he angry about his disabilities or does he see them as positives? I just want to sit down and have a conversation with him, but I would hate to offend him. Perhaps he doesn’t want to speak about it. Perhaps he is just hoping to live his own day to day life with as much normalcy as possible. But maybe he’s just never been asked because people shy away from the sticky subjects. Maybe he is a brilliant man. I hope he has love in his life. I never see him with someone else. But maybe, just maybe, all he needs is himself.

I would like to someday write a story about him.

What happened to my once strong voice? It seems to have disappeared. I can’t quite seem to find where it went in the mess of my life. When did I become the quiet friend that sits back and lets conversation happen without me? I have no idea what I have become lately. Maybe its time to figure this shit out. Maybe I just need to breathe and think about who I am and what I want out of my friendships and relationships. I am seeing more and more that I adore people, but some times I just need to be me. And I need to find out who “me” is.

The journey begins (again)