as i was sitting with mary, wendy, maia and diana on a warm mug of hot chocolate, and slowly every girl says her guy. mary, obviously admits to who i thought it was, and slowly everyone opened up and once again i felt all of the eyes on me, and my face heated up and i was blushing, as i was telling -as i know how- my tragic one-sided love story. i think my mouth did all the talking but my body language was definatly pouring my love. lovelovelove. i heard some famous quote today, that reminded me a little of myself. "the musicisian needs music, the artist needs to paint and the poet needs words. its a need." well, seeing as i am a little of everything, i need love to fuel up everything. and once again, i find myself falling head over heels for a guy who can barely see me.
weird thing that happened yesterday on the bus: i was walking through the isle and my bag fell on the floor, so as i was picking it up and turning around to stand, he was turning around and changing his shirt. tight spaces, bending over.
you get it, right?
well, it was awkward for a second before he smiled at me and i was basically melting in my wet black shirt, and on the way home my brain started racing again. and boston boston boston. i was -once more- writing in my mind every tiny feeling that came to my fingers while the rain was just pouring, one centimeter away from me. on the way up to the dorm room, he stopped me and said "you still haven't heard 'Boston'" and handed me his iPod. "Augustana, that's what the band is called." he smiled and i just nodded and walked into the room, clutching at my heart and wondering why he is just so.. love-able. and yes, i cried but he couldn't tell because the rain was salty and so were my tears. but that song... it just touches me in all the places that i want him to.
besides, we're going to the music room today and i swear that if he plays that to me again
i'll drown in a lake of my own tears- but we both know i'm no alice in wonderland. as much as i'd like to be.
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well. i'm starved. the weather here, as you can tell is pretty rainy, and i am curently sitting in becca's room and half watching specific guys with no shirts on playing volleyball and half writing. the thought of coming home scares me, but the thought of not coming home makes me sick. i wish i could find my way in between.
chen, if you could copy this to my normal blog, i'd be very pleased because for some reason i can't update it.
thanks.
Mitz.
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