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| "Are you in love?"
She hesitated. Her response was unclear, "I'm not sure." She had asked herself this question about a million times in her head, no conclusion was met. She, apparently, had all of the symptoms. . .She was perpetually giddy, her face glowed at the mention of his name. He had this certain power over her that no one could comprehend. Its not that she worships him, just adores him so much that in her head he was elevated to something else, something better. Never before had she experienced feelings of this sort. The smell, sight of him continuously sent a rush through her body. She turns weak with every kiss he lays upon her supple yet innocent lips. But, everything beautiful must turn ugly. . .
He betrayed her in the worst way. The fear of any young couple. Her way of getting through it was to do as she always did. . .to pretend it didn't happen, well that and. . .to get completely wasted. In her drunken rage she confronted him, wondering if she was just a conquest. But afterwards felt worse. It would have been better if she would have found out from him, and not a mutual friend.. . .
She decided to put it out of her head and forget every moment they ever shared. She numbed the pain, and eventually forgave. . .but still hasn't forgotten. Just as friends they were working fine. But then he said it, "I think I'm in love with you." . . .
Broken and confused, she begged him not to do this. To please be joking because if he loved her, then she would finally have to admitt the truth. And the truth is what she feared the most. The truth was that she had strong feelings for him, but never experiencing this before, she didn't exactly know what they meant. Loving someone is dangerous. The other person can control and shatter your emotions. She didn't want to be hurt again. . .
What do you think. . . Is she really in love? | | |
| I got "coffee" today with Lindsey. Only there wasnt coffee in my cup! There was a big pink flower and a colorful card that said...
"Holly: Even though this coffee may not be as hot as youll look in your dress, how about going with a hot date to PROM?"
So I get all red and look around for Kyle.
He pops out of the corner where hes been for a while hands me roses and asks me.
So cute. Made my day.
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| i seem to get more comments when i post pictures of myself...
 me and sonny haha.
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| As of lately, I've been listening to a lot of electronica-come-triphop. Notable downloads would include:
- MOUNT SIMS
- FISCHERSPOONER
- LCD SOUNDSYSTEM
- SNEAKER PIMPS
- THE GLIMMERS
- ELECTROCUTE
- ENON
- LADYTRON
- CHICKS ON SPEED
- ADULT
- PORTISHEAD
- Pretty much the entire Party Monster soundtrack
Also I <3 hanging out with chris.
Here are some pictures of the lovely boy and me.
He is the best.
Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought.
--E.Y. Harburg
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| And that night when you saw me, you reached your hand up towards me and you said, "You cut your hair.." in this mystified, mysterious voice I couldn't read. And then you sat down in the armchair in my living room and the two of us sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the sunlight stream in through the window and the prisms of glass my mother and I had hung, strung up in front of the window like a reminder of all the clumsy times you break a mirror or a vase. We sat there while the sunlight came through, while it split into dozens of shattered rainbows which threw themselves around the room and onto the couch you were sitting on. Onto the oil painting of a forest by an unknown artist, onto your mouth, onto my hands.
And then you started talking about how you remembered how two summers ago my hair was halfway down my back, and it would get tangled up in my hands. And how when I went swimming, afterwards I would come out and tug, tug, tug at the mess my hair was in, this tangled up mess tinted green with chlorine and yellow with sunshine. And about how after you saw me like that you would go home and write poems about mermaids. You wrote stories where I was the heroine, where I would save sailors from drowning, I would pull them close to me and drag them to the coves of islands where I would give them kisses to wake them up.
"Who were the ones that lured sailors to their deaths?" I said. "Wasn't that the sirens?"
"Yes." You said. You said that I wasn't a siren, because in your mind when you read that, you envisioned these slippery creatures with bronzed skin and black hair like oil spills, hair that they swung like lassos to pull men into their deaths. You said sirens were like the crafty kind of girls who make love to become pregnant so that they can entangle a man and trap him forever. No, you said, no you aren't a siren, you aren't because they come to you willingly.
"They do?" I asked.
"They do." You said.
And it was then that I wanted to see myself as you saw me, I wanted to be one of those greek goddesses, like the ones in the stories. I wanted to have hair down to my feet, I wanted to have my lovers braid it and then get them caught up in it like a true love fishing net, I wanted to wear it like a dress, like a suit of armor, I wanted to wear it like a piece of jewelry that you never leave home without, that you don't even take off to shower, not even if it leaves a cheap green blue ring around your finger from where the copper is rubbing off onto your skin. I wanted to wear my hair like a wedding ring. I think this was the conversation that made me want to climb up the steps of Mount Olympus, not because I thought I was worthy but because you did. | | |
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