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Am I in love?
Am I capable of that?
What does that even mean?
Because I am certainly not blind, and this is no thing of faith. It's not ecstasy or even totally being at ease. It's not addiction, or deep wanting. I'm not getting anxious thinking about you or wondering if it's too soon to call you. I don't feel like a radio thrown into a bathtub. I don't feel like I smoked a fat bowl of indica. It's more like- It's
It's almost freaking out because the movie we planned to see wasn't playing in Fort Collins and i don't want to cancel our trip and disappoint you, but you responding in the exactly most perfect optimistic carefree way that makes me feel that way, too.

It''a marijuana-induced borderline panic at the thought of intimacy and you telling me that it's okay, politely moving your boner away from me, and you show no visible signs of disappointment or annoyance.
It's the slow, tender, gentle sex that I've very, very rarely had an hadn't realized I wanted. I don't leave with bruises and my sheets aren't littered with hair ripped from my head.
But, I tend to think that the best things hurt a little.

But then, maybe that's problematic. Especially as that idea relates to love; like it can't be real if it doesn't hurt. Because that heart-thumping, don't-look-him-in-the-eye, always on-edge shit may feel daring and raw, but it doesn't last and it's shallow.

Not that this will last. I'll graduate and go to grad school, and he will go surf.
But I do think "what if", and I think,
I like who you are and I like who I am around you, even if part of me scoffs at the me with you for being so fucking corny. 🌽🌽🌽🌽🌽
Hannah Clark is back and I'm excited. Laramie is coming full circle. So many of the same people 'round, come back around years later. Very different, but the same.
By the time I leave here it will have been almost five years.

And I have no idea where to go before grad school. Reno, maybe. I can get social work volunteer experience while working some boring job, probably. Take my GRE. It'd be fine. Establish my life there, all that.

I'd like to do something more interesting, but we'll see.
I danced solo at the Buck in a wave of couples, holding my head high trying to picture Jon thinking I was cool and independent and realizing that his girl was basic, hoping he didn't think I was slashed and socially retarded. But then Milli said, "he couldn't handle you anyway," and maybe that's true.
Like Ken couldn't. I have plans to get a drink with him today. It'll go something like, " I know I told you that I didn't want a boyfriend and that I wanted to get sloppy, not give a fuck, and sleep with women, but now I am dating Alex. Sorry"
And will he ask for more information? More of an explanation? Will I tell him that I thought he was basic and unintellectual, and that I didn't like his friends? That his homophobia was a huge turn off and the fact that he is half philipino doesn't give him the right to use the "n" word? That he told me that I was great in spite of my unathletic, unconventional appearance, and basically that he had to learn to see what was pretty about me. That he hated my armpit and leg hair, and that I would sometimes feel bad about myself when I imagined where I fit on his "10 scale".

That I hated that I taught him so many things and I learned nothing, except that I now understand how men date beautiful but very stupid women, because that's basically what Ken was. Except that I didn't do very good in that situation. I can see the draw. That hair, that bod, that tongue.

But still I had no sex drive with him because he gave me the willies.
I had a dream that I let someone borrow my face and I was pissed because they left stick-on eyebrows attached to it when try gave it back and it totally ruined my brow game.

Also that I was in a relationship with Donald Glover. That was probably the most beautiful thing to have ever happened.

But point is that I am no longer plagued by nightly terrors. This room, despite the fact that it was Elijah's room first, is now my happy place. The pale green walls, sheepskin rug, the woven geometric wall hang. the books stacked to make a makeup counter. It's all so breezy chill that there isn't a negative thought in here.
This is my private zone, my personal space, my bubble, but It's a nice surprise to wake up from the deep slumber with Alex here.
I'm glad that Ken never slept here. He was kind of a shit.
He is just a basic bitch with good hair and a nice bod.
I have been through so many men, one after the other, without a break in between for so long. It's sort of like sleeping around but not. I try to just fuck but something makes them stay and then I like that they stay.
I'm "his" or whatever. But he is so stupid easy to be around. I never feel nervous or stupid and I never feel like he is stupid, either. He loves to be around me as much as I love to be around him. He knows and likes my friends and vice versa. Never mind that he was in a live-in long term relationship with one of my best friends. That's weird, I guess.
But at the buck I danced with Andrew and smooched him while Jon kept looking. Andrew tried to take me home but instead I went to Alexs and in the morning we had the best sex and I decided I wanted to be exclusive. Fuck it.
User: sonnielee
Name: sonnielee
Back January 2015
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