chagrin: Sept. 02, 2002 (1:10 pm)

we made a record of our failures 'cause we must document our love

i make up who you are depending on how i feel. rewriting the story of us in my head over and over. you as the brilliant boy who understood what was right. you as the boy who just liked to play. you as the boy who wanted to make me feel better. you as the boy who wouldn't let me leave until you got what you wanted. you as the boy who saw himself in latin literature. you as the boy who wouldn't introduce me to his friends. you as the boy who said that i would satisfy you. you as the boy who wanted to fight for the isreali army. you as the boy who wanted to live alone in the woods. you as the boy who used to mock me as a stupid vegetarian who listens to stupid punk rock.

we never did anything and i just have these little bits and pieces of you that i can't put together. i can't write anything about you. except that i loved you because i always felt better when i told you the truth. but i guess the truth is that when i'm with you i still look around. you aren't so wonderful. to me. to me.

i pretend that i have more control but i can't stop thinking about this one boy. who is like a child in the best way possible. who's mouth gapes while he watches movies and who always leans chin on his hand and drums out rhythms at shows and writes lyrics that make me think that i found someone who understands things in the same way i do. sometimes. who actually does things. but i guess i'm just sort of ashamed to really like you. why should that be the only way i can love the beauty of someone.

and i keep forgetting that i love most things i read, hear, see and write. that i drum along to rhythms on my unwomanly thighs. when i wasn't with paul i loved everything. and wanted to learn everything. and just want so badly to live, not merely exist. i can be beautiful too. i need not be ashamed of everything.

< - > - all - p - n - d