Exhausted

i'm so tired of this shit. of being grounded. of being without friends. of limited driving priviledges. of being without texting/cell phone use. of being without a computer. all in all, it sucks, because all that means that i am, in essence, without you.

whenever i risk my neck to get on the computer, you're not on AIM. i know that technically this can't be helped, since i don't know your new work/school schedule, and even if i did i can't really plan when i will be able to sneak on here. whatever, it still sucks. the last few times i've gotten on, i've left you a cute message or two, just for fun. i'm sure you've gotten them. but what i wonder is if you still even read this anymore. i don't think anyone does, except maybe Christie. but she probably has no idea what or who i'm talking about most of the time... *sigh*

since i've had all this spare time lately, i've had a lotttt of time to think about things. here's what i've come up with: i want so many things. i want my parents to trust me. i want all my priviledges back, dammit.

more than any of those things? i want you. i want to go to the movies with you and put up the arm between us so we can cuddle. i want to hold your hand in the car, while whichever of us (probably you) drives. i want to go out to eat with you and sit across from you so we can play footsie under the table. and that's only the beginning of the list. jesus.

i'm sorry. i know all i talk about on here, for the most part, is you. i'm sure that if you do read this, you would roll your eyes and tell me that it can't happen now. i know that, but i don't care. i'm sure that if you do read this, you'll laugh and think i'm obsessed with you. 'obsessed' isn't the word i would choose... let's just say i'm absolutely and completely crazy about you. [but hell, you knew that.]

oh, but here's the worst part about not talking to/seeing you for so damn long: i'm beginning to forget. sometimes when i want to remember your laugh... i can't. i can see you smiling and the sparkle of your eyes, but it's like my brain is on mute. and your hands, i'm starting to forget what they look like. blegh. i remember how your ears stick out just so, in this little adorable way that i love. i remember your walk, how it screams slight arrogance and a comfort in your skin. of course i remember your eyes. smallish and carmel apple, haha. ♥

ah! i have a perfect example. it's something like this:

After a while, I couldn't remember whole pieces of you, as if part of the punishment was a recollection through a filter that grew hazier with time. On certain Sunday mornings when I dreamed you, I could not picture what your teeth had looked like, or the exact curve of your jaw where it fit in my hand.

I used to imagine us sitting down for a drink at a bright little restaurant, maybe one of those specialty coffee shops that have become so popular. I swear I could smell the blended beans and the starch of the white napkins, even the milled soap that you would have used that morning. I was able to see your easy smile, which always seemed to startle its way across your face-- your smile, but not your teeth-- and the way your fingers tapped a light tatoo against the mug. I did not give us conversation, no "You look great," no "What have you been up to," no "It has been hell." Like your teeth and the line of your jaw, this part was unclear to me. I was not sure if there was a protocol to follow when I welcomed back from hiding my other half.