seethingblue's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I feel completely insane. I don't know why I'm going to go ahead and try and make this dinner. I know you won't show up and then I'll feel foolish and insecure. And the crust will be burnt, the salad too wilted, the dressing too sour, the dessert sweet enough to melt your teeth. But you may come and slump down on the couch, vapors from that last cigarette still circling your form. You will keep your eyes fixated on Radio Shack commercials or rap videos on TV, avoid conversation or those trivial niceties, and then I will secretly feel like shit later in my room. I don't know what it is, it isn't you at all. I want to wear my hair long and straight, put on emerald sweaters, feel beautiful. I imagine myself lingering over open books in libraries and coffee shops, nice guys in all black too afraid to ask me out. I am holding out for someone else, I know. But there is nowhere to go, nothing to do. So, I wait for the next interaction. I feel sick thinking of how I will make this food and set the table. How I will put flowers in a vase, maybe vacuum the floor, all for someone who does not talk to me, or care for me at all. 14:13 - 02 December, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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