A Certain Shade Of Gray

2003-02-12T14:34:00.000-06:00

2003-01-14T22:36:00.000-06:00

test

2002-11-20T18:31:00.000-06:00

Well, like I said, I can't stop thinking about him. There are so many things about him that make us so alike, but I think what I love the most are his little idiocyncracies. The little bits of his character that I could have never wished for, but giggle when I see them. Those little things that perhaps would be described of him by a novelist, if he were a book character. The fact that he carries Listerine Pocket Packs, and he carries his stuff in a briefcase, and he loves Target, and likes to look at houses, and is obsessed with the Beatles, and has rugs that match his bedsheets, and uses a Mac instead of a PC, and rambles when he's nervous, and covers his hands with the ends of his sleeves, and has a record player in his room, and his closet doors are swinging saloon style, and he wears striped socks, and he waits for other people to get their food before he eats, and playing the guitar helps him think.

How can I have not seen this sooner?

2002-11-20T17:16:00.000-06:00

Yes, it is a renaissance. There has been a major takeover in my heart. And it all started with a simple email . . .

I won't tell you the entire story, it's too long and I can't even remember all the details. But essentially, the Claremore Factor became irresistable. There was so much of him, I couldn't deny it. He was making me fall in love with him every time he opened his mouth. Every second I spent with him made it harder and harder to be in love with our Beck Lookalike. Time and emotions invested were the only things keeping me back. Finally, I knew that the old love meant nothing and that the new could be everything.

I told you about the time diallation. But did I tell you about the time, months ago, when everything had been going wrong and I'd gotten hurt and I was crying, and he comforted me completely? No one can do that, no one can just make everything ok with thier words. No one but him. Or did I tell you about the time that I felt that everyone had deserted me, but he was still by my side. Or when he told me, "I just don't want you to go away." Or how the first time I saw his room, my thought was, "I didn't know there was someone else this much like me."

I was thinking that constantly. Everytime we'd talk, I'd learn something new about him that I completely could relate to. I started to be able to tell what he was thinking, to understand him. It scared me, at first, how well we seemed to fit. That was a while ago, when I was scared. I ran from it then. But now, I am so happy.

And he feels the same. This is perhaps the most amazing part. He feels the same. He said he'd been praying for God to send someone who could understand; me. He said, "I never thought I would find anyone like you." I mean as much to him as he does to me. I am his prayer. I am so happy that I can make him this happy. I have always prayed for someone like him, he's prayed for someone like me. This is amazing. This is perfect.

"Find yourself someone who sees you like the way you do now baby, yeah." -Twothirtyeight

2002-11-20T14:29:00.000-06:00

Not here, but here.

2002-11-05T21:24:00.000-06:00

He makes me fear for my heart, he really does.

That stupid weblog, why'd I encourage him to write in it? It's just torture for me, to see his heart like that. And to see his talent. It makes me nearly cry every time I read it. How do I stand it? What am I missing?

And then there's the Claremore Factor. . .

I said I wasn't up for that, I know. It's too far, he's too young. And I just wasn't up to the challenge. But today . . . I saw something that made me want to change my mind.

We were finishing up with practice and he was shutting down the mics so I could take him back to his house. Somehow we'd gotten on the topic of time diallation. It's some abstract mathematical physics concept, and as he started to talk about it, this look came over him and made him look almost ethereal. He didn't look like like Joe does when he's trying to explain a theory to me, as if the ideas in his head were painful to explain. And it wasn't like Nathan, explaining things as if it's a diversion to be speaking. It wasn't like Mr B, instructing and helping me along. He stood there behind the sound board with a look of wonder and joy on his face, speaking of this amazing theory that explained humans as beings of light, and how time and the entire world is bent. He was simply telling me some bit of knowledge and he let the awe he felt at this concept show on his face. I think he forgot I was even there. Pure, unadulterated joy in knowledge.

I could have fallen in love with him right then. Perhaps I shouldn't spend so much time alone with him.

2002-10-28T17:15:00.000-06:00

Oh dear, I really freakin want a boyfriend. I just read about Sarah B. getting sung to as she falls asleep. I want that. I want to be sung to, I want to be kissed and cuddled. I want to be given a sweater to wear when it's cold. I want flowers and pictures given to me. I want to have doors opened for me and JUST me. I want to go on a date. I want to be kissed goodnight. I want long hugs.

Last week, my friend Brad was voted Biggest Flirt at school. To celebrate, he was giving all his female friends kisses. He kissed me on the cheek, which is usual for him. But then he kissed me on the neck, which doesn't mean anything, coming from him, but a kiss on the neck is so sweet and so intimate. It just brought it all back and as I walked to my next class, I had to try not to cry.

And last night, I saw my ex boyfriend and he was wearing the sweater he'd given to me, and I'd given back when we broke up. The one that smelled like him, that I would sleep in. And he'd ripped a hole in it.

I want a boyfriend. And I have no options availible to me. None at all.

2002-10-27T19:51:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I can't stand him. When he takes a step back when I take one forward, when he acts so in fear. When he is so obviously hiding his feelings and I can see through him, but when I call him on it, he denies it. When he can't take the heat. When he's so self concious or indecisive.

But other times, I can't stand to be away from him. When we talk, and I know he's really listening to me, that he really cares about what I'm saying. When he's the only one in the world who can understand. What's that line from Fight Club? "When people think you're dying, they really listen to you instead of just waiting for their turn to talk." That's how he always is with me. He is never just waiting for his turn to talk. When he tries so hard to make me feel better.

It's a good thing, I suppose, that at times I despise him. It makes it easy to push him out of my head. But tonight I'm feeling lonely again, and when you feel sick, all you want is someone to cuddle with and take care of you.

2002-10-24T22:59:00.000-05:00

Kayla, girl, I feel for you.

2002-10-19T02:23:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, I'd really like to get inside his head.

Like, does he want to spend as much time with me as I want to spend with him? Does he want to be able to hang out, just the two of us, as much as I do? And if he does, what does that mean? What do all of his actions mean? When he walks off alone, does he want me to follow him? When I touch his arm, does he wish I didn't? When he says he's not lonely, does he mean it the same way I wish I could mean it? When he says he's missing me dearly, does he mean it in that way?

My favorite source of advice tells me not to think so much. He's right, I know. But I've invested so much emotion in this, I just wanna know what he's thinking.

2002-10-18T01:12:00.000-05:00

What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I dont want to be one, I want to get one.

2002-10-16T11:08:00.000-05:00

Would everyone agree that the three most desirable elements of a relationship are communication/honesty, understanding and forgiveness?

2002-10-13T18:09:00.000-05:00

With the diffusion of the Claremore factor, I'm starting to realize why love for the original sparked up so much in the shadow of that threat.

Before all that happened, I was getting along fine. I saw both boys, the boy I once loved and the boy who seemed to love me, as my best friends. I adored them and watched out for them, and they for me. Like Jo and Teddy in Little Women. I was even sketching a drawing of my signature character holding two scruffy teddy bears and hugging them close. But when the Claremore factor arose, that comfortable reality trembled. What would that mean if it were true? Could I hold onto my friendship with my original love, a friendship I valued deeper than anything? Would I end up having to choose between this new option and my old routines?

And as that question was put to me, I subconciously answered it without knowing. As I dealt with my confusion and frustration, the old love for him began to rear it's head again. I began to want him again. Why, oh why? Why now? I wondered. I was angry at my heart for adding in one more wrinkle to a problem my head already couldn't solve.

Now that I know that the new love does not exist, or at least would like to pretend that it doesn't, all my worries, as well as any rekindlings, are doused. I look back on my panic and frustration and realize that as my harmony was threatened, I clung to my original love. I reached out for it, subconciously making the descision. I was afraid of losing the comfortable relationship I have, so I held to it all the more tightly. As soon as the threat was gone, so was the longing for him to be something more.

So what does this mean? Am I still in love with him? I suppose it does mean that. I think more, though, that it means I am very happy with where things are right now. Certainly, if things have to change, I'd like them to change in the "going out" direction, but I am very satisfied with what I have. Just don't take it away from me. I like my boy, I like my Teddy.

2002-10-08T00:31:00.000-05:00

I live in fear that someday I'll hit the wrong button and post this to one of my other blogs.

This is not an overwhelming everyday desire, but for some reason tonight I'm mega-wanting a boyfriend. And Claremore is looking less and less far away, and 15 is seeming a lot less young. Is that simply because it's being offered? I dont know. I wont even allow myself to consider it, but maybe I should? I don't know. This is really confusing.

2002-10-07T00:22:00.000-05:00

Just because I'm not in love with him, doesn't mean I wouldn't still say yes. I'm just not gonna do the chasing.

And now that I've decided I no longer am going to pursue him, he seems slightly different. He touches me more often, puts his hand on my arm, puts his arm around me to guide me through a crowd. His hand lingers a moment longer in mine when we shake hands. And I no longer care what he thinks of me, does this make me flirty? Is this why every other guy who I don't love seems to love me? I doubt he even knows what he's doing.

Another friend of mine has basically told me that if he didn't know I was head over heels for my former love (this friend does not read this weblog, nor is he that deep in my confidence) he would be interested in me. My my.

2002-10-04T17:23:00.000-05:00

There have always been three things that I look for in a guy. At least two of them must be present before I'll be interested, all three I have never seen in one guy.

-First, creativity. He can draw, write, play an instrument, dance whatever. But he has some kind of artistic outlet. An actor, a poet, a musician, a reporter. All good stuff.

-Second, intelligence. He reads, he thinks. He follows world affairs, he has opinions on important issues. He knows philosophy, theology. He is a scholar.

-Third, style. He has a developed taste. He doesn't just consume whatever is put in front of him, be it in a catagory of clothes, music, TV, etc. He has preferences and trademarks.

This pretty much follows for all people, not just guys. But I hold to these three qualities even more intently when I'm "crushing".

Above all, though, is a requirement I set long ago as a hurdle whatever guy I planned on getting into a serious relationship with would have to have jumped. He has to know himself. He must understand his own actions, be self contemplative. He must be in control of and in touch with himself and his emotions.

And guess who ISN'T? Yeah. He may have all three of the first three, but he falls far short of the most important requirement. And as soon as I discovered that, my one and a half year infatuation with him was turned off as quickly as it began.

2002-09-21T00:54:00.000-05:00

If standing alone on a bridge overlooking the water, a full moon in the sky, talking of nature and beauty doesn't inspire love in him, nothing ever will.

My dad says I should be sexier. "He's got testostrone," he said tonight after all my friends left."He's just sexually bashful!" If only, Dad. If only. I think I'm just not the type of girl guys fall in love with. I'm the type they respect and admire and like, feel brotherly towards and unburden themselves upon, but not the type they think is cute or sweet or want to touch or hold. I'm not lovable.

2002-09-19T21:17:00.000-05:00

His brilliance is torture.

2002-09-19T20:34:00.000-05:00

I need no soft lights to enchant me
If you'll only grant me
The right
To hold you ever so tight
And to feel in the night
The nearness of you."
-Norah Jones "The Nearness Of You"

That album is officially mine.

2002-09-18T01:16:00.000-05:00

2002-09-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

Cold Cold Heart

I tried so hard my dear to show that you're my every dream
Yet you're afraid each thing I do is just some evil scheme
A memory from your lonesome past keeps us so far apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold cold heart

Another love before my time made your heart sad and blue
And so my heart is paying now for things I didn't do
In anger unkind words are said that make the teardrops start
Why can't I free your doubtful mind,and melt your cold cold heart

There was a time when I believed that you belonged to me
And now I know your heart is shackled to a memory
The more I learn to care for you, the more we drift apart
Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold cold heart

-Norah Jones

I haven't actually heard this song yet, but I was browsing and came across the lyrics. I'm attempting to download it now.

2002-09-17T19:43:00.000-05:00

I hate watching sitcoms and those wierd drama/reallife/soap opera shows on WB and seeing cute and beautiful people hooking up with other cute and beautiful people and having those moments where you look at eachother and just know and then lean in and kiss and everything is happy until the episode with the first fight. Those moments never come in real life. At least not to me.

Then again, I don't really care about that moment. I care about everything that comes after. I care about the holding hands and talking on the phone and late night conversations and being comfortable with eachother. I like that part much more than the flirty, emotion filled pre-relationship. I'd be perfectly willing to skip all that if I could just have a boyfriend. Strike that, if I could just have him.

Funny thing, I had a crush on Beck long before I even met him.

2002-09-15T00:48:00.000-05:00

I wish for the little couple-y things. I wish for giggling to ourselves. I wish for whispering in his ear. I wish for references to things just he and I did.

I wish for pet names (oh wait, I have those) and "I was just thinking of you" emails and phone calls. I wish for catching him looking at me, and asking why, and hearing "You're just so pretty." I wish to be walked to my car. I wish for his coat to be offered to me when I'm cold. I wish for his name and mine, written inside a heart, by his hand. I wish for the first time I'm introduced as his girlfriend. I wish for him loving cute little things I do. I wish for going to dinner together. I wish for him offering to pay. I wish to hold his hand.

2002-09-14T01:50:00.000-05:00

Just because we're best friends and closer than, in his brother's words, "bread and butter" doesn't mean I'm not still going to delight in silly things. i.e. tonight I got to sit in the backseat of Jill's car, scrunched beside him. And I got to grab his arm when a police car drove by. I'm not afraid to touch him now, now that I know he isn't bothered by it and even enjoys it. I was afraid to even put my hand on his arm, something I casually and naturally do to all my friends, guy or girl, but I'm not now. Mmm, and thats rather nice, because he's rather handsome and hugs from him are just the best freakin ever.

2002-09-14T01:25:00.000-05:00

I do mean more to him than just a friend. We had a long conversation the other night, not necessarily about him and I, just about what was going on and how I was upset and he was upset. It was actually more of a fight. But it ended up with him really opening up to me, truly opening up. Not just being comfortable with me, but confiding in me. He'd never done that before. He's told me lots of times that I'm his closest friend, the only one he can talk to, but he's never really told me his feelings and what goes on inside his head. He told me so much stuff about him that I didn't know, and about how he views me. Apparently, I am not only his closest friend but his "safety net" and the most important person to him outside of his family. He told me some other things that I won't tell here, but I am so honored to know how much I mean to him.

He even said he likes my hugs and wishes we hugged more.

This is almost as good as a profession of love.

2002-09-12T00:01:00.000-05:00

What is with this ambiguity? Some moments, I swear I mean more to him than just another friend. His eyes follow me wherever I go, I see him watching me. He makes wierd ironic references to "couple-ish" things. He seems to want to be around me. But sometimes, I'll sit down close to him, and he'll move away. Othertimes, he won't and sometimes he even moves closer. It sounds so silly and junior high to be measuring inches between his leg and mine when we sit beside eachother, but that's all I have to go on. Some nights, when we say goodbye, he'll hug me like a boyfriend hugs a girlfriend (see a few entries down) but other nights, like tonight, he barely puts his arms around me.

I just want to go up to him, rumple his hair and throw my arms around him. I want to lean against him when I'm tired. I want to grab his hand. Sometimes the desire to just hug him randomly is unbelievable. Tonight I got up from where we were sitting to get a drink, and as I walked back to the table I was siezed by a impulse to kiss him on the cheek. I almost did it. I cannot imagine a worse thing I could do. I want to wear his jacket.

I can't believe any of you are actually reading this. Stop.

2002-09-11T00:50:00.000-05:00

This Fear

You seem to have this fear,
This fear of drowning in a sea of someone else.
You'll swim out too far,
You can't get back.
You gasp.
You choke,
And your self-reliance floats facedown.

And so you are now untouched by desire,
Or so you seem.
But are you man or machine?
Can nothing I do change this?
What smiles, what words,
Can lull your fears,
And bring you to these shores again?

You have this fear of getting lost
In a maze,
With your autonomy left at the gate.
I assure you,
No such price is required.
And the maze is not so confusing
Once you've gotten the hang of it.
But even then,
Would it be so bad
To get a little lost in me?

2002-09-06T17:23:00.000-05:00

How can he be the only human being on this planet who doesn't feel lonely? He doesn't want me, or anyone else, and hasn't for nearly a year now. Does he never feel the need to be held? Doesn't he want someone by his side, someone who understands him? If this desire to be part of someone else is a universal human one, why doesn't he have it? Why have I fallen in love with the only man on the planet who seems incapable of love?

His brother is desperately lonely. You'd think being that close to the emotion would awaken it in him. He says I am his closest friend, that he can't talk to anyone like he can talk to me. Is that where it ends? Is that enough?

Right now, I seem to be entrancing every guy around me. All my other male friends are making pronouncements of love to me, or at least acting like they want to. Why is he the only person so immune to me? Why won't he love me?

2002-08-24T01:07:00.000-05:00

I got the best hug I've ever gotten from my love tonight. As we were saying goodbye at the end of our evening with friends, he hugged me so closely and held me, rubbing my back with his hands like he wanted me there. I have never been so happy as those three seconds that I was in his arms. I want to cry now, thinking of it and knowing I can't have that all the time. As I got into my friend's car, I could still feel my love's hands on my back, warm and gentle. We fit so well, how can he not feel it?

As my friend said after we got in the car, he's not rejecting me, he's rejecting all girls. He just doesn't want to date right now. I know that, I understand that. It doesn't change the fact that we are not together.

I'd like to pretend like I thought he was hugging me tonight for a reason beyond friendship, that maybe things will change. But it's been nearly a year now since he showed any interest, and I can only take pleasure in imagining that within those three seconds, we are in love. And I know that we're not.

2002-08-16T15:24:00.000-05:00

Striking The Iron

The only thing it is is hard
When I’m always the one who calls
When waiting for a reply from you
Has me climbing the walls
When a hug is just a hug
And goodbyes aren’t that bad
When me alone with someone else
Doesn’t make you mad
When someone asks you what we are
And all you say is friends
But when I ask about being more
You turn me down again
When a long prepared outfit
Doesn’t turn your head
And all the things to change your mind
Have already been done or said
It hurts to see you so yourself
And so not in need of me
It hurts that you don’t want the chance
To see what we could be
It doesn’t help a whole lot
To know how much you care.
Sure, it’s great to be so close.
We’re almost, but not quite, there.
I’m finding meager solace
In knowing you too are alone
In your genial compliments
And conversations on the phone
In hanging out in parking lots
Or being at ease inside your home.
But none of these things can make up
For what you and I are not.
I strike and strike but the iron’s ice cold.
When will it ever grow hot?