Friday, May 11, 2007; 11:46 PM
No happy ending
I notice we have fun when we're together, but it's not the same crazy kind of fun I have when I'm with MJY or Sammy or other friends. Perhaps its because I'm really not good when I'm in a situation where it's just two people, but when I'm with you it's not as arkward as it usually is, which is good. It's a shame there can't be more fun, but I don't suppose fun would be much in our itinery when I'm such a indecisive person and you just can't be fussed.

Still, we do enjoy each other's company, which is always a good thing. It was so funny, as you sat outside my store waiting for me to get off work, a strange man approached you, shook your hand and told you you were extremely handsome, and should be a model. You stared at him like he was deranged, whislt I laughed myself silly at the bewildered look on your perfectly chiselled face.
I dragged you - or moreso you dragged me - shopping, because I need new headphones and you need a new jacket, and neither of us will ever get round to buying stuff unless we're absolutely made to. You were arkwardly silent and stiff all throughout, understandably, since this is the first time you've ever actually gone shopping for yourself, and with a girl for that matter, and I laughed at the sullen expression on your face as I picked out a smart black hoodie for you to try. The sales assistant and I ganged up on you and made you put it on, and I wanted to die from amusement at the flustered look on your bright red face as you tried to wriggle your way away from two girls with devil horns sprouting out of their heads. I'm trying to save you from your fashion disasters - you seriously have no dress sense whatsoever, and if I see you show up in that horribly mismatched shirt and shoes again, I think I might scream - but I suppose your pretty face makes up for any fashion faux pas that isn't too cringe-worthy.

Then you came over to my place with me and yelled at me for living in this messy state, what with all my stuff strewn haphazardly over the face and dust collected on my shelves. You also insisted I vacuum my carpet and then you turned away from me and said that you liked my house, despite it's messiness and small size. There are no holes in the walls at my place - but I think that the holes over at yours are a part of who you are, and no matter how you plaster them or cover them up, they'll still always be there. You can pretend they're gone, you can paint over them and make them invisible, but you can never really fix them.
I should know - I have holes too.

You flinch whenever I touch you, because nobody ever touches you in your entire life, but I take great pleasure in poking you and watching that little spasm of discomfort flicker across your face. It's not that you don't like it, even though you act like you do - you're just not used to it, but you do like the gentle touch of my fingers on your arm when we're crossing a busy street, or how I rest my hand on your knee when you're frustrated and trying to keep it tough. It's in the way you look at me, and the way you make more of an effort to rest your hand on my shoulder and the way you blush. You've never had a friendship like this before and you're getting used to actually have someone look out for you, because you've always been completely alone. When we're together, the vibe is always sentimental and comfortable, it's never wacky or crazy or hysterical, but you laugh sometimes, and it's the only high-pitched, squeal of unexpected laughter that shows up when I'm around, it makes you seem human almost.

I do think I've been seeing too much of you lately. As a result, all I have to blog about lately is you, because you're the only thing that's happening in my life at the moment, besides crazy assignments, deadlines, work, exams and friendship blow-ups between MJY and Sammy, with me caught in the middle and falling asleep beside you on the bus. My life at the moment is one big, fizzled-out bottle of soda, with the gas all gone. I'm exhausted - I'm exhausted - and almost every day I feel like I don't want all this anymore.
There's the everyday, and there's the mundane, and then there's you. We're platonic, and we're simple, but we're something at least, something to look forward to after a long, hard day and you just want to sit back and cry - or in our case, laugh. It's funny how we make time for each other even when our workload is spilling out into the Atlantic Ocean, and it's great because what I really need is pure, genuine human interaction - I'm paranoid that I'll be a bother to people, so I stay quiet. I'm especially bad with that when it comes to my boyfriend - I can go months without speaking to him if I feel I'm a bother. But you actually want to speak to me, and you do, nightly without fail - and you tell me that I'm free to annoy you anytime I like, even if you're working, and I think I kinda need that.

There are so many times I feel like screaming, but you look at me and I'm not scared of you.