*Mind Blogging*

It hurts to know,

That we aren’t close,

That you don’t think I-

Am genuine with my approach.

You are my memtor,

I swear I am not,

Lying.

So stop being a negative nelly and,

Realize I am the,

Only one trying.

And in the end, I lay here dying. I will tell you what I have meant to tell you all along. I kissed him and I don’t regret it. He wasn’t mine, nor would he ever be.

I can feel the pain radiating and I know it is almost time. The heart monitor bleeps away in the corner. Maybe it’ll help someone else when I am gone. I look up at the door and there he is. Not mine, I say to myself as he crosses the room and sits next to my parents and sister and boyfriend. He asks if he can hold my hanf. He switches of with my mom. I see the pain in his almost black eyes. I feel a piece of paper slipped into my hand. Writers are notoriously sentimental. Neither he nor I were an exception of that stereotype. I feel like I can’t breathe. He wrote for me.

He smiles a bit. Just a little crinkle of his mouth.

He isn’t mine.

Tommy leaves for the night and my parents take my sister home to bed but, he is still here. They had all kissed me goodbye. He said he would watch me for the night and then as they finally skulk out his monolgue starts.

“You are still beautiful. You know that though. I know that you are still in there and that if you could you would talk to me.” I let me eyes and head shift in acknowledgment. “Good.” He says.

He lifts my hand to his lips and then pulls out the note.

“The first time I saw you,” he reads, “my heart stopped and my hands went numb. I tripped over my feet. I am to old to feel this way.” He looks pointidly at the way my mouth twitches at the statement and continues. “I love you though, more than I should be allowed to.” I hear his now choked sobs as he lets it sink in for me. “Squeze my hand once if you feel that way to, twice if you don’t.”

I squeeze once, lighlty because I have no strength left to give.

“You are brave, always filled my classroom with sarcasm and even joy.” His eyes twinkle a bit, “you filled me with joy. You still do”

I feel my stomach flip and the tears start to fall. He drops the paper on the ground and wipes at my eyes with his fingers.

“Shhh, it’s okay, you can’t cry, you are to beautiful to cry.” The paper forgotten he soothes me until morning comes and swallows up the darkness of the room.

Then my heart flutters and I feel my breathing change. The nurses take me away. He kisses my cheek as they start to wheel my bed out.

“You are strong.” He says, I don’t know if he says it for me or to convince himself. I know I am done.

Tommy finds the paper later. He drops it in my coffin as I watch from the shadows in my new ghostly form.

The paper only said four words and the person who wrote them did not come to say goodbye.

“I will miss you.”

He was sitting in bed. His sweat pants clinging to his legs. His feet are bare and hanging over the edge and his shirt, which was pulled off moments before, is hanging off the edge of his dresser where he flung it. His nostrils flare, he’s angry and he doesn’t remember why. Everything is a void of black from this morning and the only thing he is aware of is the pain in his back where a large bruise is forming. He feels his jaw with his calloused fingers and comes across a sore aching pain where his bone meets his neck. He groans loudly and tries to lie back but, he can’t. The bruise has now spread and this is impossible. His brown hair is plastered down from sweat. For some odd reason wherever he is has no ac.

His mother looks through the door. He has no idea who he is, no idea he is home… No idea where he is going or what he use to search for. She thanks God and sends up a prayer. Her little boy can now be somebody.

Then comes a knock on the door.

Tongues of fire licking at the exposed metal carcass. Drinking in the paint as it drips down the welded seams. Crackling through the cracks as they melt and burst in passion.

Twenty feels like such an anti-climactic number… Basically I can drive… I can be drafted to war… I can vote. But, I can’t do the one thing everyone wants to do! I am sorry but the zero behind the two in this double digit number means nothing to me. I may as well be a two year old again.

Year after year…

Our lives pass by,

Minute after minute…

We all change our minds.

The choices that we make,

Whether wrong or right,

Stick with us,

Day after day,

For the rest of our lives.

The world, as it spins,

On its axis,

Has us fall over,

Our own feet, and one another.

We tumble and grab, clamoring,

To grasp what we do, or do not,

Know.

For a fact,

You are much prettier,

When you are puzzeled,

As you flip and twist,

In less graceful manners,

Than a limb being waved,

Back and forth,

From a suspended, unconcious form.

A rag doll, more amazing,

Than a human girl.

How much you love people.  No one can grasp it.  Either a person thinks everyone loves them or no one does.  I wonder what catagory I fit into.  To bad I can’t really tell anything about myself.  I’m not a good judge of my own character, then again who is?

I keep trying to tell you how special you are but, you deny it like you always do.  You act like it is too simple for people to just want to be with you.  You make me so jealous.  If I had people texting me and saying like “let’s hang out” or actually showing up at my front door and asking if I wanted to do something I would know that I was actually wanted.  All my friends live hours away or even in different states.  I miss them terribly.  Where as your friends are literally 15 minutes away and you can see and talk to them anytime you damn well please.  What I wouldn’t give…to be…you.

Do you get it now?  Do you understand how badly I want you to want me around?  DO you understand that I want to meet your friends and become friends with them to?  Are you embarassed by me, am I not cool?  I just wish that I had normal oppertunities.  I get it, I’m an academic…I have different experiences and goals…but, sometimes I just want to chill and tell jokes or watch pointless movies to.  I would die to go fishing or just grab an ice cream cone with a pal.

With you would be fine to.

Every human has a weakness,

So,

What is yours?

It is only a,

Matter of time,

Before,

I figure it out myself,

I’ll give you a chance,

To tell me,

Now.

I can wait.  Although it keeps feeling like my heart is going to beat out of my chest from the pure adrenaline rush I have been having for the past day.  This is going to continue until I get the answer.  I can’t stop thinking about it.  

I also can’t stop thinking about you and everything you have done for me over the past years.  I want you to know how grateful I am but, I really don’t know how to say it…express it to you.  Why can’t life and understanding things be easier… Why can’t I just tell you?